It Echoes Back
by Valkryie Cullen
Summary: Sequel to Sing to Me. The Eurovision Song Contest of 2011, presented as if the Hetalia characters themselves sang each song. Who would win this year?
1. Intro, Finland

I don't own Hetalia or Eurovision, Hidekaz Himaruya owns Hetalia and I don't know who owns Eurovision, but that person isn't me. But it's that time again, with my take on if it had been the Hetalia characters themselves singing the songs for Eurovision. As like before, the songs are all on YouTube, so feel free to listen to them while you read this story.

As far as I know, no new characters have really been introduced in Hetalia, and so this fanfic is littered with OCs. As previously with _Sing to Me_, short paragraphs in **bold** throughout the story include some history on certain countries and their relationships with each other. Pairings include: GerIta, Spamono, LietPol, Greece/Japan/Turkey (?), one-sided LietBel, SuFin, DenNor, _Oji-san_/Iceland (?), and others I can't quite remember.

And once again, I apologize in advance if I offend anyone over the songs.

Enjoy!

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><p>It Echoes Back<p>

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><p>It took twenty-eight years, but Germany won at Eurovision again in 2010. With him hosting the 2011 Contest in Düsseldorf, there was still no telling who would win. Would he clinch the victory again? Would another country who already won before win? Or would a country, who had never won Eurovision, win the contest?<p>

It was time…for Eurovision 2011.

* * *

><p>Germany tucked the towel around his shoulders as he regarded himself in the mirror. His blonde hair was a mess, but his boss would love it surely. But, he couldn't miss the exhaustion in his eyes.<p>

He'd forgotten how hard it was to host Eurovision, and he'd only done it once before in 1983. Was it too much to hope for that everything at least go as planned?

It was the buzz all over the internet. Countless viewers all over Europe had been _less_ than satisfied with the broadcast of the first semi-final round. It all fell on his shoulders as the host country, and that added to his stress. Everyone was pointing fingers at each other over the technical issues, and nobody was taking responsibility. He had wanted the contest to run smoothly, but alas this wasn't the case.

Germany felt a shiver run down his back and he quickly turned his head. He saw nothing behind him, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. But his stomach was still twisted up in knots as he faced the mirror once more. The biggest controversy of that night, at least to the fans, was the fact that the first five countries who had performed failed to qualify. And all of them had been favorites to get in the finals.

He rubbed at one ear self-consciously as he remembered it. Turkey, Armenia, Albania, Norway, and Poland were all furious, especially when a rumor spread that votes that went in during the first thirty minutes of the show hadn't been counted because of the technical issues. They all jointly filed appeals to ESC, but it all fell on deaf ears. Germany didn't know what the truth was. His ears were still ringing from those countries screaming at him. At least, from all of them except Norway. The Nordic country took his defeat in his usual stoic silence, but then Germany suddenly found himself being stalked by a floating green troll for two days afterwards.

It hadn't been pleasant, that was for sure. At least the troll just trailed him around and didn't actually _do_ anything, outside of being a nuisance.

Speaking of nuisances, Germany was consciously aware that he was indeed alone in his green room. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit speed-dial. He idly played with a couple of strands of hair on the top of his head as he waited.

Once again, the phone didn't ring. It went straight to voicemail.

"_**HALLO**__! This is Gilbert Beilschmidt, aka the __**VERY AWESOME**__ Prussia! I'm not available because I'm probably out doing something AWESOME! Leave a message, or something, and I might get back to you! If I don't, then you probably AREN'T AWESOME!"_

"Aniki, where the _hell_ are you?" Germany snapped into the phone right after the beep. "I better be getting your voicemail because you're driving here and can't pick up your phone! The Eurovision finals are _tonight_ and we're sixteenth to go! You'd better be here, or I'll make you sorry! Oh, and _danke _for missing the rehearsal!"

Germany snapped his phone shut and sighed. Venting may have felt good, had that not been the _twentieth _message he left on Prussia's voicemail. His older brother had been completely AWOL since yesterday, and all attempts to reach him failed miserably.

And Germany knew _exactly_ why Prussia was avoiding him.

"So that _thing_ is gone?"

Germany jumped slightly and looked over his shoulder. Austria was idly fixing his cufflinks as he entered the green room. "Wait…so _you_ saw it too? I thought I was going crazy!"

Austria shrugged as he sat down at the couch. "After everything that's happened, it didn't really surprise me to see a few…_unsavory_ creatures hanging around you. At least it didn't attack you."

"_Ja_." Germany sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in both irritation and exhaustion. "At least the problems were fixed for _your_ semi-final performance, Austria, and you were able to qualify."

"It was exciting." Austria smiled very slightly. "It'd been so long since I'd performed in front of an audience, so I'd forgotten how wonderful it feels. And my song has sentimental value with strong lyrics." He scoffed as he sorted through the magazines on the coffee table in front of him. "Not like Moldova's mess. How did that _awful_ song qualify?"

"Europe has eclectic tastes," Germany said blandly. "Look…you haven't seen Aniki, have you?"

"Prussia? Not at all." Austria idly flipped through a magazine for a moment before he put it back on the table. "He popped up right before my semi-final performance to pour pepper into the water I was going to gargle, but that's it."

"_Dummkopf_," Germany groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"But it's typical behavior of Prussia—"

"_Nein_, I mean that he's supposed to perform with me tonight with another one of Lena's accursed songs, and I can't find him!"

"Oh, is _that_ why you're upset?" Austria shook his head. "Personally, I think you're better off performing without him. Remember his behavior last year during your performance?"

Prussia had been falling down drunk when they sang in 2010, accumulating with him vomiting all over Hungary. She smack him full-force in the face with a frying pan, and it sobered him up too little too late. Still… "I'm not performing that damned song alone! He _swore_ he would do this with me, and then he disappears!"

"You hated the song last year," Austria pointed out. "And yet you won. Since you hate the new one so vehemently, just imagine what your final score will be?"

Germany groaned again, wanting to smash his head into the wall. "I don't want to do this alone…"

"_Jó estét_!"

Both men perked up at this new voice, and at the person who swept into the room. "Hungary!" Austria gasped, gaping at her. "You looked _beautiful_!"

Hungary laughed and twirled in her short blue dress. "_Köszönöm_. Po-chan picked it out. I generally don't like outfits like this, but if I look good I can't complain!"

"And congratulations on getting to the final," Germany said. "It's fantastic that the three of us are in the final this year."

"Of course you're in here as part of the Big Four. Oh, I'm sorry." Hungary laughed sneakily. "I meant Big _Five_. Have you checked on Italy yet?"

Germany looked away from her. "I've…been busy."

Hungary laughed even louder. "His green room is just down the hall! And Romano and him look so _cute_! Why not stop in and say hi?"

"I will later," Germany said hastily. He pulled out his cell phone again. "I just need to get a hold of Aniki."

Hungary stopped laughing and made a face. "He's probably in some bar here in Düsseldorf getting drunk off his ass! Honestly, you're better off without him here!"

"That's what _I _said too," Austria said. "Although, with a little more subtlety."

Germany snapped his phone shut. "His voicemail box is full!"

* * *

><p>The central control room for the Eurovision contest was guarded very closely. Because of all the technical issues, and <em>especially<em> since this was the finals, it was important that everything run smoothly.

Except…

The guard on duty folded his arms over his chest as he looked up and down the hallway. He saw no one, and outside of occasional beeps from his walkie-talkie, the corridor was filled with silence.

After a moment, he turned his head to his left…and saw a dark aura. Accompanied by a pair of red-violet eyes.

He screamed, and stumbled backwards. "_T-Teufel! Teufel Geschöpf!_" he took off running down the hall, screaming his head off.

Belarus stared after him in silence. A burst of laughter erupted behind her, and someone came up on her left side. "B-Belarus! That was incredible!_ Much_ easier than I thought it would be!"

Belarus tested the doorknob, and the control room came open easily. "One moment, Georgia."

"Right." Georgia pressed his back into the wall to avoid detection. He raised his arm to direct his companion to come alongside him. "Careful, Azerbaijan. If they see us we'll be disqualified."

"Got it." Azerbaijan flattened her back into the wall, but she gave Georgia a sideways glance. "But won't Belarus be punished for this?"

"She's not in the finals, so it's not like they can disqualify her. Plus, they wouldn't have the guts to."

More screams erupted from inside the control room, and several people ran out of the room and back down the hall. One moment later, Belarus poked her head back out. "It's clear."

"_Kargi_," Georgia said. He smiled and clasped hands with Belarus. "Thank you for the help."

Belarus shrugged. "I didn't get into the final, just like I warned my boss. If they hadn't told me to change the song, then this wouldn't have happened. But I'll show my Big Brother…he can't ignore this."

"No, he can't," Georgia said cheerfully. "Let's make this quick!"

* * *

><p>"<strong>Georgia is one of the few countries who isn't afraid of Belarus and doesn't find her to be creepy. In the past several years they have become close over their mutual frustrations with Russia over his energy policies. On top of everything else, Georgia actively supports Belarus in her desire to "become one" with her big brother Russia. Probably because he hates Russia with every fiber of his being."<strong>

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><p>The three countries hurried into the control room. It took several long moments but they were able to bring up the video of the opening montage of all the countries that didn't qualify. Georgia cycled through each video quickly, though he kept a close eye on each video for the right one.<p>

"_Boom Boom, Chaka Chaka! Your kiss is like a like a—Boom Boom, Chaka Chaka! Your love is like a like a—"_

Azerbaijan shrieked with laughter before she slapped a hand over her mouth. Georgia gave her a dark look before he moved onto the next video. "_Neçænci_?" she demanded indignantly. "It's a terrible song!"

"Armenia is not in the final," Georgia said harshly, cycling through the video. "And with everything that happened during our semi-final round, the jury is still out as to whether or not he lost because of his song."

Azerbaijan scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "He's just whining and grasping at straws. I'm _glad_ he's not there! This would only be perfect if Sadiq were here with us!" she sighed sadly. "His was one of the best songs this year, _and_ he was the runner-up last year! It's really such a shame!"

"At least you can be well-assured that you'll be getting _all_ his points," Georgia said.

Azerbaijan brightened up a little. "That _is_ true…"

"Here it is!" Georgia cried out, bringing up the video in question. "Belarus, do you have it?"

"I do." Belarus clutched a VHS tape in her two hands. "So…we just replace the current one with _this _one?"

"Yeah, simple as that!" Georgia took the tape from her. "We'll splice it in! Nobody will know the difference!" He cackled to himself. "And there's no way Russia can miss it…"

* * *

><p>Italy tested the doorknob of their green room before looking at Romano over his shoulder. "Nii-san?"<p>

"What is it?" Romano demanded. He was smoothing out the wrinkles in his silk white shirt.

"Why is our room locked?"

"So certain _perverts_ can't break in!" Romano shook his head, as though Italy had asked a stupid question. "This is our big comeback, Veneziano! And I don't want _any_ distractions!"

"But if we keep the door locked," Italy said mournfully. "How can Germany visit me?"

"THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT!" Romano barked.

"A-And Spain-nii-san can't visit you—"

"I don't _want _him here!" Romano cut in quickly. "He can go rot in his own green room for all I care!"

"But—"

The doorknob suddenly rattled under Italy's hand. Both brothers jumped at this, and at the knock that came at the door. "Don't open it," Romano said warningly.

"Feliciano! Lovino!" came the call from the other side. "Are you in there?"

Italy's whole face brightened and Romano relaxed somewhat at this voice. "_San Marino_!" Italy whipped open the door and crushed his third brother in a tight hug. "_Stupendo_! You came backstage to see us!"

"Of course I did!" San Marino positively smiled at his two brothers. His dark auburn hair seemed to spring out from underneath his cloth white muffy hat. The curl he had at the top of his head couldn't be contained by the hat, either. "It's a shame I couldn't get into the finals with you guys, especially since this was also _my_ comeback year, but I gave it my best shot! And that's what counts!"

"Absolutely!" Italy said, pulling San Marino further into the room. The door was absently left open. "You did your absolute best!"

"I see you're alone," Romano said, looking over San Marino's shoulder. "Did Seborga stay home?"

"No, he's here," San Marino said. He began twirling a keychain around his index finger. "He's angry though. His heart was really set at getting into Eurovision this year, but he didn't make it. For some reason, he was really angry at_ me_." He laughed lightly. "He told me I'm not a cannon and so I shouldn't be here! Isn't that such a silly thing to say? Of _course _I'm not a cannon! I'm a country!"

Italy and Romano exchanged a quiet look for a moment before Romano changed the subject. "But since you didn't make it, that means your twelve points are going to _us_, right?"

San Marino nodded happily. "You've got it! Whom else could I give them to, anyways?"

"Why don't we take a wild guess?" Romano snapped.

"I don't…" San Marino trailed off suddenly. They could hear voices from further down the hall. His face brightened suddenly, and his head whipped around. "_Serbia_!" San Marino bolted from the room.

Italy and Romano rushed to the doorway. Further down the hall they saw the country in question, and San Marino speaking rapidly to him. Short silver hair fell into Serbia's face and he regarded San Marino in cold silence. "Idiocy coupled with the need to throw himself at a country," Romano fumed. "Doesn't that remind you of a _certain someone_?" he glared pointedly at Italy as he said this.

Italy thought about it for a moment before he shrugged. "I don't know."

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><p>"<strong>San Marino is a micro nation of 31,000, located inside of Northern Italy. In 301 A.D. he ran away from Grandpa Rome's house and founded his country. Though he is not as big as his other brothers, he is the oldest constitutional republic in the world, sprung from an incredibly rebellious nature in his youth. He has proven to be incredibly lucky as well, as he has the lowest unemployment rate in all of Europe and no national debt. Despite being independent, he is forced to rely on Italy for military aid, as he has no military of his own. In fact, he has a treaty with his brothers which stipulate the Italian Army will bear arms if San Marino is <strong>_**ever**_** invaded. Thankfully, this hasn't happened.**

**Though he gets along with most nations of the world, one foreign relation he is **_**incredibly **_**proud of is his relationship with Serbia. Since 1984 they have been close, and San Marino even made a promise to Serbia to always support him in the Council of Europe, no matter what. Their only bone of contention was San Marino's acknowledgement of Kosovo's independence in 2008, when he'd previously promised he would not do so."**

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><p>"Romanooooooo!"<p>

Romano stiffened at this voice. "_Merda_, the door—"

He was nearly tackled from behind. Arms clasped around him and a familiar voice breathed alongside his neck. "Romano…you will vote for me, _sí_? I look forward to your performance, too…"

"_Ciao_, Spain-nii-san!" Italy shouted obliviously.

"Get the fuck off me, you fucking idiot!" Romano screamed. He tried to punch Spain, but his arms remained pinned at his sides. He tried to stomp on Spain's toes, but they were conveniently out of harm's way. "I'll head-butt your ass, _bastardo_!"

Spain only giggled against his neck. "Mmm…so much _energy_, Romano. Save some of that for your performance, _no_?"

A familiar chuckle came from down the hall Spain came from, and Romano froze violently in his arms. "Becoming quite_ cozy_ Spain?"

"France-nii-san!" Italy cried. He ran at the other country and threw his arms around him. "We perform right after you!"

"_Oui_, you do." France hugged him back, but his hands began to suspiciously wander downwards. "It shall be quite an _intéressant_ night. I _did_ receive a peculiar message from Gilbert…"

"You too?" Spain turned his head to look at France. "I got it too! It was pretty vague, _no_?"

"You got **WHAT**?"

Everyone jumped again as Germany stormed towards them. He grabbed France by his collar, which caused the other nation to let go of Italy before he could grab his ass. "Aniki sent you a text message? What did it say? _Where is he_?"

"Germany!" Italy cheered, hugging Germany around his waist. "You came to see me!"

"I don't know where Gilbert is!" France snapped irritably, trying to pull away from Germany. "He just sent me a message that said to not tell you where he is!"

"WHERE?" Germany snapped again.

"I told you I don't know! I have no idea where he is!"

"He sent me that message too," Spain said. "But I haven't seen Gilbert since last night."

"Wha…" Germany abruptly let France go. "You saw him LAST NIGHT? I haven't seen him ALL WEEK! _Mein Gott_…" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'm going to kill him…"

"Germany came to see me," Italy said in a sing-song voice, still hanging onto Germany.

"_That's it_!" Romano screamed. He kicked Spain in the stomach, finally able to break out of his arms. "I can't stand all of this FUCKING STUPIDITY!" he stormed over to Italy and Germany and pulled Italy away from him by the scruff of his neck. "We're sitting in the audience! NOW!"

"Nii-san, I want to visit with Germany!" Italy wailed. He reached frantically for Germany as Romano dragged him down the hall. "Doitsu! _Doitsu_!"

Germany stared after them, unsure of what to do. "Uh…"

Spain wheezed out a laugh, and nursed his stomach. "Romano's quite flexible…"

"Wait, don't leave without me!" San Marino shouted after them. He smiled brightly at Serbia as he turned to leave. "_In bocca al lupo_!"

"…_Hvala_," Serbia said after a long moment, though San Marino had already taken off after his brothers.

Germany watched the brothers leave, still at a loss for words. "I…"

A flash of a shadow startled him down the hall, and he jumped. France chuckled and sidled up next to him. "Feeling a little _jumpy_, Germany?"

"_Nein_," Germany said sharply, shoving him away. "I thought I just saw a unicorn, but I must be under stress."

"A unicorn?" France looked towards the ceiling. "I know of a _certain individual_ who may be responsible for this…"

* * *

><p>England had a problem. He knew he did. And he knew it was his own fault for not realizing it sooner. But…<p>

"I don't understand." He had to force the patience into his tone as he spoke into his cell phone. "I already promised to pay for your room and pay for all the booze you want. And you're _still_ saying no?"

"_Well…" _Australia hesitated for a moment on the other line. _"It IS short notice—"_

"I can get you here so fast you won't blink!" England said. "So _why_ can't you do it?"

"_Well…I'm not a European country—"_

"Do you think they'll care? And the contest broadcasts to your house! So you don't have any excuses! It's just _one song_!" England sighed heavily. "A three-minute long song, that's all you'll do, and then you're free to do your own business in Düsseldorf for _free_! You can't get a better offer than that!"

"_I…don't feel like it,"_ Australia said at length. _"And this song is with a four-member boy band anyways. Why do you need a fifth person?"_

"I already told you!" England snapped. "I got Wales and Scotland to go along with me, but _Ireland_! She…" He gritted his teeth. "Bloody hell, just shut up and agree to this already!"

"_Er…no thanks. But my koala and I __**will**__ enjoy watching your performance live."_

"Wha—" the line abruptly disconnected and England screamed with rage. "Why you! BURN IN HELL, YOU POOF!"

England tucked the phone back into his pocket and leaned against the wall. He slid to the floor and sighed mournfully. "_Now_ what am I going to do?"

A burst of feedback erupted from the intercoms. Then, a familiar voice burst out in loud song shortly after the feedback.

"_LET TYRANTS SHAKE THEIR IRON ROD! _

_AND SLAV'RY CLANK HER GALLING CHAINS!_

_WE FEAR THEM NOT, WE TRUST IN GOD!_

_NEW ENGLAND'S GOD __**FOREVER REIGNS**__!"_

England growled in fury and jumped to his feet. "Not again! And to sing _that_ song! The little bugger is going to PAY!"

* * *

><p>Lithuania looked at the mirror in front of him and sighed. "I'm so nervous."<p>

"Liet, I told you not to move." Poland came around the front of him to fix his collar. "You need to, like, totally look awesome out there!"

"I know, Feliks." Poland had dressed Lithuania in a formal suit that was the three colors of Lithuania's flag. He thought he looked like an eyesore, but he'd rather trust in Poland's judgment with this. "All I want out of tonight is to not freeze up on stage. And to not get zero points."

Poland glared at him and he brushed off his shoulders. "You'd think _I'd_ let you get zero points, Liet? Besides you, like, _totally_ nailed your semi-final."

"_Tabu_," Lithuania said sincerely. He looked down at Poland while the other nation fixed his cuffs. "I know this hasn't been easy for you, with everything that's happened. So I really appreciate you helping me out despite this."

Poland scoffed, though his fingers stilled on his wrist. "You're, like, _hopeless_ at this stuff anyway, Liet. What would seriously happen if I wasn't totally here? And besides…" Poland sank down to his knees to brush out wrinkles in his pants. "I've totally got a lot of people on my side over this. ESC is totally plugging their ears and won't listen to us, but a _lot_ of people felt I was, like, totally robbed. It's not much, but it makes me feel better."

Lithuania let out his breath slowly. "Yeah…"

"We'll be fine out there," Estonia said confidently, fixing his tie. "We might not get the points we want, but we ought to have fun and put on a good performance, right?"

"Right," Lithuania said, but something caught his attention. He saw Latvia trembling violently at the door, peeking around the corner into the hallway. "Raivis? What are you doing?"

"I-I-I-It…" Latvia turned to them, tears in his violet eyes. "I see Russia! _He's _out there watching us!"

Lithuania stiffened, but Poland abruptly stood up and stormed to the door. He stepped into the hallway and looked down both directions. "I, like, totally don't see anything Latvia."

"I saw him!" Latvia cried out, wringing his hands. "H-He's down there watching us! H-H-He's going to come, a-and—_mans Dievs_! I have to get out of here! P-Please don't let me go to the audience alone!"

"I don't see anyone, Latvia," Poland repeatedly irritably. But, he faced the direction Latvia had seen Russia and pointed his middle finger. "_Spierdalaj_, Russia! And if you come near Liet, I'll totally make Warsaw your capital!"

"Stop scaring us, please," Estonia scolded, grabbing Latvia by his arm and pulling him further into the room. "Russia isn't going to conquer us or ambush us here! When has he ever? Just calm down and _relax_!"

Poland scoffed in disgust and stormed back into the room. "That _bękart_ is only lucky he has all of Europe in his back pocket! Otherwise he'd _never_ make it to the finals so many times!"

"Feliks, that's not true," Lithuania said, trying to mediate the matter. "R-Russia may be scary, but he has strong entries—"

"He's NEVER not qualified for the finals!" Poland shot back. "No matter what song he sends in, he, like, _totally_ gets in! He could send in a song of a goat bleating for three minutes and it would qualify! How can HE be here _again_ and I'm not?"

Lithuania's brow knitted in pain. "Feliks…"

Someone stormed past their green room, and Latvia perked up. "W-Was that Belarus?"

Lithuania brightened. "It is? I must speak to—"

"No, you don't!" Poland snapped, grabbing him by his arm. "Remember the _last_ time you spoke to her in Eurovision? She, like, totally broke your nose! Why would you risk bodily harm when you're in the finals this year?"

"Feliks, that was an accident—"

"_What_ part of smashing your fist into someone's nose is an accident?"

"…He has a point," Estonia said.

"B-But—" Lithuania began.

"Hey, BELARUS!" Poland suddenly shouted after her. "_Big Brother's_ just further down the hall!"

"Feliks!" Lithuania scolded.

Belarus said nothing to Poland, as she rounded the corner. After a period of silence, loud screaming emulated from down the hall. "…Wow," Estonia said after a moment. "He really _was_ there…"

* * *

><p>"Enough is enough!" England hollered. "How many times is he going to do this?"<p>

"Let me go, you git!" Sealand whined, trying to break free from the hold England had on his arm. "You're only angry because of that song America taught me!"

England ignored him as he sized up the Nordic in front of him. "When is your lot going to curb him in? If you let him go running amuck like this _all the time_, it will only create problems!"

Norway stared at England blankly. By his stance and usual lack of emotions, it was easy to tell he didn't care about the situation. "It's not my job to discipline him."

"Look, if you buggers would just let me into the contest, then I wouldn't need to crash it!" Sealand insisted, still trying to pull his arm free. "I saved the bloody world! **ME!** We'd all be running amuck of shadow people if it weren't for me! So I have a _right_ to participate!"

England still ignored him. "Well, _forgive me_ for burdening you with this, but you're the only one out here, Norway! _You're _the only one of your circle who didn't qualify! Is it too much to ask for, for ONE OF YOU to rein him in?"

Norway's violet eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms over his chest. "As I just said, he is not my responsibility. You brought him to me, now go away. You're giving me a headache."

England was about to press the issue further, but he recognized the aura that surrounded the Nordic country. It was an aura of rage, but he felt the magic behind it. He knew better than to stage a magic fight right before they went live. "O-Okay." He shoved Sealand at Norway. "Stay out of trouble!" he barked at the small nation.

He turned and started to storm away from the pair. He yelped when something brushed against his foot and he fell backwards onto his butt.

"_Se hvor du skal!_"

England gaped in horror and fascination at the sight in front of him. A grouping of tiny creatures was casually walking across the floor. One of them was giving him the middle finger before he hurried after his friends and disappeared under the seats.

England pointed with a shaking hand. "W-W-What…were those GNOMES?"

* * *

><p>When Armenia rounded a corner, he saw Russia sitting on the ground with his back to the wall, clutching a kitchen pipe. "Russia? Is something wrong?"<p>

"Do you see Belarus?" Russia asked through clenched teeth. His face was incredibly white, and he was shaking.

Armenia looked back down the hallway he came from, and then down the other corridor. "_Votch_. I thought I saw a unicorn a little while ago, but I don't see Miss Belarus."

Russia let out his breath slowly, and relaxed. "…Good. I tried to see Lithuania, but then that _ublyudok_ Poland sicced her on me!"

"I'm sorry to hear that." It wasn't very often that Armenia heard Russia curse, but he knew he had to be upset. He knelt down beside Russia. "I'm not trying to defend Poland, but it _has_ been a terrible time for us." He bit his bottom lip. "It's almost worth it that Turkey isn't in the finals, but _Azerbaijan_…she keeps rubbing my failure in my face! And it wasn't even _my_ failure!"

"Do not worry," Russia said. "I am still in the finals, so you may give all of your points to me!"

Armenia nodded. "No problem. You can always count on me for that at least."

"_Horoshyee_." Russia reached over and ruffled his hair as he reached into his coat. "I know it has been a difficult time for you, but here! Have some candy!" he pulled out a chocolate bar and gave it to him.

Armenia looked at the chocolate for a moment before he tucked it into his pocket. "Thank you. And good luck tonight."

* * *

><p>"Wow!" Sealand cried out as Norway and him entered the Nordic's green room. "Look at them all!"<p>

At least two dozen fairies were scattered around the room. Many of them were sitting on Faroe or playing with her, likewise with Åland, though she was playing with Hanatamago. Greenland looked like he was antagonizing a dirty little troll by poking it in the forehead. The other Nordics were finishing getting ready as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

"Norway, I caught a _boggart_," Greenland said, referring to the troll he was tormenting. "He tied my shoelaces together and stole 50 Euros from me. If I keep bugging him he'll give me back my money, right?"

"…That's the idea," Norway said blandly. He pushed Sealand further into the room. "England was having a row with this one."

"That was your singing, right Sealand?" Finland asked over his shoulder. "Why did it bother England so much?"

"Who knows?" Sealand asked. He joined Åland in playing with Hanatamago. "But where did all of these magical creatures come from? England's _never_ summoned this many!"

"England didn't summon these," Iceland said matter-of-factly, brushing off his shirt.

Norway visibly twitched, but remained silent as he sat down. Ten fairies abruptly came to rest upon him.

Denmark giggled suddenly as he fixed the red tie over his black shirt. "_You _summoned them, Norge? This isn't like you!" He turned away from the mirror to grin at the other Nordic. "You must be _pretty _upset about your defeat!"

"I can handle defeats if I deserve them," Norway said calmly, though his fingers curling into fists. "When I'm unjustly defeated over something that isn't even my fault, and nothing is done about it, I don't really find it fair."

Denmark arched an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. "Are you sure it's really the technical issues that are bothering you, and not the fact that you lost on our wag—UGH!"

Norway launched himself from the couch, the fairies scattering in alarm, and began strangling Denmark with his tie. "_Vær stille!_" he hissed.

Unfortunately, Sweden caught what Denmark had said. "Wager?" he fixed his own collar and looked at Norway. "You had a wager with _Denmark_?"

Norway abruptly let Denmark go, and took a couple of steps back as he found himself under scrutiny from the entire room. He looked briefly at Iceland, and then looked at the floor. "Er…"

"_Why_ would you make a wager with Denmark?" Greenland asked, still poking the _boggart _in the head. "I thought you were smarter than that, Norway. Come on, give me back my money!" he snapped at the _boggart_.

"I'm not talking about this," Norway announced, waving his hand. He sat back down on the couch. "It's nobody's business."

"What did you wager?" Faroe asked, looking up from playing with the fairies.

"It's _**nobody's**_ business," Norway emphasized.

Sweden's brow rose, but he said nothing more and turned back to the mirror.

"B-But!" Denmark coughed, struggling to his feet. "I am a man of _honor_! As the former King of Scandinavia, I can see when people are cheated! Since Norge_ was_ cheated, he didn't technically lose!"

"So you guys wagered over who would get the highest ranking?" Finland asked slowly. "And since Denmark made it into the finals, and Norway didn't, Denmark won by default?"

"Again," Greenland asked. "_Why_ would you make a wager with _**Denmark**_?"

"What's wrong with making a wager with me?" Denmark demanded.

Norway scrubbed a hand over his face. "He made me an offer he couldn't refuse."

"That's vague," Iceland said.

"He. Made. Me. An. Offer. I. Couldn't. Refuse," Norway punctuated.

"_For a full year, I swear Norge! No phone calls, no visits, no drunken ambushes, no whining, NOT A THING! I won't speak to you or bother you for ONE FULL YEAR! I'll take a blood-oath if I have to! So __**please**__ make this bet with me!"_

"If he made a great offer if _you_ won," Finland. "What's going to happen now that Denmark won?"

"Oh, that's easy," Denmark said cheerfully. "He must—"

"**OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!**"

Greenland shrieked with pain as the _boggart _bit the tip of his finger. He jumped to his feet and waved his hand frantically, the _boggart _swinging frantically from the tip.

"Let him go!" Norway snapped, rushing over to him.

The _boggart_ let Greenland go, and went flying. He smacked into the wall hard, but fell gracefully onto his chubby legs. With a loud cackle, he took off running out of the room.

"It still has my 50 Euros!" Greenland shouted, clutching at his hand.

"W-We have to call for help!" Finland cried, rushing over. "That _thing_ might have rabies!"

"It's a mythical creature," Iceland said blandly. "It _can't_ have rabies."

"Why did you summon that?" Greenland hollered as Norway held fast to his hand. Finland got an emergency kit from the wall and pressed gauze to the bite wound. "It bit me and now I'm bleeding and it ROBBED me!"

"I'll give you 50 Euros in a moment," Norway said, helping Finland wrap the wound. "Just don't go near that _boggart_ again, all right?"

"I'll _kill_ that thing if it comes near me again!"

"Is he okay?" Faroe asked fearfully. She offered a fairy to Norway. "Maybe if the fairy kisses the wound he'll heal?"

"…We might as well try it," Finland said. He sighed and brushed the hair out of his face. "Wow…so much to happen already, and I'm the first country to go tonight. I'm already exhausted."

"_Vad är det, Mamma_?" Åland cried out, rushing to Finland's side.

"_Jag okej_," Finland reassured her, petting her hair. "_Jag känner bara en kombination av stress och nerver_."

"_I'm_ the one who's hurt," Greenland fumed. "And she asks about you! Ow!" he jerked his hand back suddenly. "What was _that_?"

"The fairy kissed you," Norway said, letting the fairy take flight. He wiped the blood away from the bite. "Look, it worked. The bite is gone."

"Really?" Greenland looked at his finger. "Then keep summoning fairies! At least _they_ don't steal money!"

"These types don't," Sweden muttered to himself.

"_Anyways_," Denmark said, as though this incident hadn't happened. "I am an honorable man of my word! And since Norge faced so many technical problems, I _did_ agree to adjust our wager to declare _me_ the winner if I get in the top ten—"

"Top _five_," Norway cut in. "I agreed to it if you made the _top five_."

Denmark's face fell a little before it lit up again. "Absolutely! I'm the winner when I get in the top five!"

Sweden walked over and knelt down beside Norway. "He ranked fourth last year, and his song is very popular. Why would you agree to those stipulations?"

Norway shrugged. "Since when has a song's popularity been a factor in winning in these contests? With everything so _screwed up_ as it is, I wouldn't be surprised if he makes fifteenth or sixteenth place."

"I wouldn't count on that."

"_Kom ihåg, räknar du som en del av mig så dig inte kan rösta för mig_," Finland told Åland. "_Men dig kan fort farande rösta på Su-san_."

"_Jag kommer att rösta för Papa_!" Åland cheered.

"_All_ of you guys can vote," Sealand fumed suddenly. "And yet look at me! I saved the bloody world over Christmas! I don't ask for a lot of recognition, but can't you guys _at least_ let me sing for Eurovision? Or are you all just scared that I might beat you?"

"Sealand, that was all just a terrible dream," Finland said, though he stood up to soothe the smaller nation. "We're better off forgetting it—"

"A dream **every country** worldwide had at the _exact same time_?" Sealand stomped his foot for emphasis.

"…Weirder things have happened," Iceland said.

"_I _didn't have that dream," Denmark said, thinking about it. "But, I was pretty hung-over though…"

A loud series of beeps echoed in the room. Iceland reached into his pocket. "It's my cell phone. Someone sent me a text message."

"I'm texting Latvia," Sealand snapped, punching numbers into his own cell phone. "At least _he_ listens to me!"

"Sealand—" Finland began.

"I'll be right back," Iceland interrupted suddenly, hurrying for the door.

Sweden stood up. "Why do you need to excuse yourself from the room to answer a text message?"

"Did_ Oji-san_ send you another text message?" Faroe asked cheerfully.

"Who's _Oji-san_?" Finland asked.

"And another thing," Norway said suddenly, quickly standing. "When are we going to meet this _Oji-san_?"

"I said I'll be right back!" Iceland snapped over shoulder. He closed the door behind himself and leaned against the opposite wall. He opened his phone again to open the text message he'd just received.

"_Halló, drengur! Til hamingju með að komast í úrslit! __Það__er synd að__ég__er__ekki þar__sem__vel__, __og þó__ það __pissar__ mig__ ég __mun __ekki __sóa__ orku__ yfir__ það__ lengur__! __Besta kvöld heppni!__"_

Iceland stared at the message for a long moment before he sent a response back. _"I've said this before. You don't need to use Google Translate to talk to me. Texting in English is just fine."_

He sent the response back and sighed shortly. After another moment, he pulled his phone out again to send another response.

"_Thank you."_

* * *

><p><strong>Prussia (mobile)<strong>

"_Tell West I'm not here!"_

Canada stared at the text message blankly for a moment before he sent a response back._ "I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Where is 'here'?"_

He sent the response. Thirty seconds later he received a second message.

"_Exactly!"_

Canada sighed, and tucked his cell phone back into his pocket. He cuddled Mr. Kumajirou in his lap and looked at his surroundings. He was careful to get to Eurovision early to ensure a seat. He managed to find a seat with the rest of the countries, and he was even able to secure an aisle seat.

"Nobody's taking my seat this year, Mr. Kumakichi," he said quietly. "And nobody's sitting on us, either!"

"Who are you?" Mr. Kumajirou asked.

"I'm Canada!"

"WHY would you teach him that horrid song?"

Canada jumped, and looked down the row. England was currently screaming at America, who was laughing obliviously. "You had no business teaching him THAT song!"

"Would you rather he sang _London Bridge is falling Down_?" America howled with laughter.

"You little—" England grabbed him by his collar. "I've had _too much_ to deal with for the past two days from you lot! Ireland and now YOU! I'm _not_ getting dead last again this year!"

"Whoa, what does Ireland have to do with this?" America asked.

"I had the perfect setup! Blue is a four-member band and I had the four members! Then she…_she_…" England dug his fingers into America's collar. "To sneak around behind my back…and TWO DAYS before the final!"

"Wait, so you need a fourth member? That's great! _I'll_ be your fourth member!"

"Hell no!" England shoved America back into his seat. "I'd rather eat a jar of vegemite than ask you that!"

America stared at him blankly before he shrugged. "Your loss, then."

"_Cazzo_!" Romano shouted, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I came out here to avoid the stupidity, and yet it _follows_ me!"

"Oh, Romano!" Spain tried to rub his shoulders, but Romano smacked his hands away. "Don't be mean!"

Seborga folded his arms over his chest and pouted. "Why are you complaining? At least you're _in_ the contest!"

"But you can enjoy the show as a spectator!" San Marino said cheerfully.

Seborga glared at him.

Behind them, Netherlands was positively fuming. "…still total _gelul_! How is it that I use a song from one of my best bands, and have high rankings with people all over Europe, and get _dead last_ in my semi-final round?"

"Maybe it was more _you_ than the song!" Spain laughed.

"What the fuck did you say?" Netherlands shouted.

"Please stop complaining," Belgium said, fixing her bangs using her compact mirror. "You're not the only one who didn't get in."

"Y-You both did great," Luxembourg said, obviously trying to be a mediator for her two older siblings. "I'm sorry neither of you made it, but _I _liked your performances!"

Belgium smiled at her sister. "_Danke_."

"Why is it that when she compliments you; you thank her, but when _I_ do you act like I insulted you?" Netherlands demanded.

"—Just know you'll do great, Doitsu—" Italy said into his cell phone.

Romano ripped the cell phone out of his hand and closed it. "Don't cheer him on, _idiota_! We're competing against him!"

"Nii-san, that was rude!" Italy cried.

"_Sí_, you shouldn't hang up other people's calls," Spain scolded playfully.

Poland came up the aisle to sit beside Italy, a trembling Latvia following close behind. "It's just about to start, right?"

"Right!" Italy said cheerfully, taking his cell phone back from Romano.

"Am I too late?"

All of the countries jumped at this voice. England and America immediately snapped to attention. "Japan!" England gasped. "I didn't know you would be here!"

Japan shrugged, looking mildly uncomfortable to have everyone gaping at him. "I wasn't planning on it, but Greece-san sent me another invitation. I wanted to go backstage and thank him for inviting me, but I got lost. I…I still have a lot I need to take care of, but my boss said I needed a break."

"You definitely do," America said. "After everything that's happened, you've been working very hard. Come, sit down!"

"Here's an open seat!" Turkey tapped the empty seat in front of him, which happened to be beside America.

"_Arigato_," Japan said, sliding over to take the seat. "But shouldn't you be backstage getting ready, Turkey-san?"

Turkey flinched, but he covered it up with a laugh. "I…didn't make it this year, Japan."

"Didn't make it? But you were the runner-up last year!"

Turkey shrugged stiffly. "That's just how things go. Of course, everything was so screwed up with our semi-final performance that I shouldn't really be surprised."

"Tell me about it," Poland fumed to himself.

"The show's about to start!" Sealand cheered, running up to them. Norway was slowly trailing behind him. "Never fear, your hero is here!"

"Hey, _I'm_ the hero!" America corrected.

"Hi, Sealand!" Latvia called out, relaxing somewhat.

"I was hoping to see another micro-nation," Seborga sighed. "But I wanted to see_ Wy_!"

"I'd rather see her than YOU!" Sealand shot back.

"I have to get backstage!" England fumed. "Thanks to that _tart_, I'm _still_ scrambling to find a replacement! I swear that bitch is going to pay!"

England stormed off. At the end of the row, Canada hugged Mr. Kumajirou a little tighter. "…I wouldn't mind being in the band…"

* * *

><p>The light dimmed over the arena, and an announcement rang out. <em>"Welcome to the fifty-sixth annual Eurovision Song Contest!"<em>

"It's starting!" Hungary gasped. She clasped her hand together nervously. "I'm fifth to go tonight after Lithuania…"

"I'm eighteenth," Austria said. "It's going to be an interesting show, that's for certain."

A shadow flickered across the opposite wall. Hungary blinked, and rubbed at her eyes. "Did I just see a unicorn?"

"You saw it too?" Germany asked, checking his phone. "I thought I was going crazy! Damn, no messages from Aniki!"

"_Before we start the show, let's take a moment to highlight the performances of the countries that fell short of qualifying this year!"_

"Way to rub salt in our wounds," Latvia whimpered.

"Come on, they always do this," Poland said. He sank into his seat though. "I'd rather be sitting with Liet…or Hungary."

The montage began with an electrifying performance by Bulgaria. _"No! Znam! Shte namerya sila v men! I nebeto do dostigna! Na inat! Na inat!"_

Bulgaria watched his video from backstage, holding an armful of yogurt. "I really gave my all to that…"

"But you'll vote for us, yes?"

He looked over his shoulder to see the Romanian siblings, Transylvania and Wallachia stepping close to him. "Of course I will. We're all good friends, after all."

"Or _intense_ friends, as our bosses refer us to," Transylvania said.

Wallachia laughed lightly, and trailed a fingernail under his chin. "You know…our offer still stands."

"I appreciate it," Bulgaria said. "But I like yogurt too much to give it up."

Hungary saw this display and scoffed in disgust.

Next was Albania in the montage. _"Let me share my song with you! Just FEEL MY PASSION! Love the message shining through! A CHAIN REACTION!"_

"Wow!" America said. "He's really into it!"

"I think the song sounded better in his native language," Turkey said. "But he too was a victim of the technical issues."

Belgium's doo-wop was up, and she was clearly into it. _"With love! –In my mind, my body and my soul! I'm doing everything and I'm doing it all!—With love!"_

"You did great, Belgium!" Romano quickly told her. "I'm just sorry you didn't make it!"

Belgium shrugged and smiled at him. "Thank you."

Norway's upbeat, yet rather bland singing came next. _"And she said—ah. Haba haba! Hujaza ki-baba! Haba haba! Hujaza ki-baba!"_

"What language is that?" America asked. "It doesn't sound Norwegian!"

"Swahili," Norway said bluntly.

"You were singing in a language from Africa?" Japan asked, amazed. "Very creative!"

Norway shrugged.

"I'm sorry I couldn't hear it from my house," Spain said. "_Pero_, ESC said you wouldn't have gotten in even if I gave you twelve points!"

Norway glared at him, and Romano sighed. "Way to have no tact, dumbass!"

"What does gum have to do with this?" America asked.

San Marino's incredibly cheerful performance was next. _"But if you don't mind! I will be here! Holding back those years that pass us by! And in a natural high, you hold my hand!"_

"…Did you write this song in 1974?" America asked over his shoulder. "It sounds like a disco ballad!"

"_No_, it's a new song!" San Marino said cheerfully.

Netherlands was next. _"Feel the risin' hope! And the sky will open! Take my hand! Don't stall! Have faith! Though the road is long! There are golden gardens! At the sweet end of your trail!"_

"I like this song," Canada said quietly.

"Stupid Europe," Netherlands fumed to himself.

Turkey was next, seemingly very intensely into his song. _"Sing it loud and let it out! Life is beautiful! My friend! Let it out! Life is beautiful! Give yourself a break! Come and live it up!"_

"This sounds really good!" Japan said. He looked at Turkey. "I can't believe you didn't qualify!"

Turkey himself no longer looked calm. "_Evet_. Maybe if they actually COUNTED MY VOTES, THEN I'D BE IN THE FINAL!" he hollered at the top of his voice.

"Ow, _merda_!" Romano yelped, rubbing at his ear. "Why won't you guys stop WHINING about it?"

Latvia was next, trying desperately to get into his song. _"Kill me with killa kiss! Kill me with tempting lips! Stare me with candy eyes! Love me with luscious thighs! Kill me with killa kiss!"_

"You say 'kill me' a lot in the song," America pointed out.

"And I didn't qualify," Latvia said mournfully.

Poland was up next, dancing and singing with other dancers. _"Jestem! Twym natchnieniem, dla łez ukojeniem! Twój świat kręci się wokół mnie—Jesteś! Moim cieniem! Na każde skinienie…Pojawiasz się tuż okok mnie Skaczesz w ogień gdy chcę…"_

"What's wrong with your microphone?" Japan asked Poland. "I can barely hear you!"

"Eurovision doesn't want to be in Warsaw," Poland said flatly. "_That's_ what's wrong with my microphone!"

"Ah…" Japan shifted uncomfortable. "_Sou desu_…"

Cyprus was next. _"San aggelos s'agapisa! Gyrna stin agkalia mou! Pes mou kai pali m'agapas!"_

"Too bad for HIM!" Turkey roared with laughter, once again in a good mood. He got weird looks from everyone around him.

Israel's upbeat performance was next. _"Ding-dong! Say no more! I hear silent prayer and it's making me—High and fly! I know where to go! And I'm coming now!"_

"W-WHAT?" America shrieked, jumping to his feet. "You guys voted ISRAEL out? What's wrong with you?"

"_Nothing's _wrong with us!" Romano snapped. "That's just how things go!"

The final entry in the montage was Belarus, but there was a strange delay in the video. Murmurs of confusion broke out across the audience.

Then, very abruptly her video started. _"Born in Belorussia! __**U-S-S-R**__ time! Belorussia! Got you on my mind! You're my passion! Do it old-fashioned! __**YOU AND I**__!"_

Backstage, all of the color drained from Russia's face as he saw the video. Georgia was watching him and shrieked with laughter. "Look at him! He's _petrified_!" He hugged Azerbaijan, who was also laughing. "This was so worth it!"

Lithuania watched this song mournfully. "…Why is this playing?"

Poland was screaming with laughter and punching the arm of his chair. "This is the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen! Oh, losing almost seems worth it!"

"T-That's not the song she sang during her semi-final!" Latvia squeaked.

"She's failing to be subtle," Romano said.

The video abruptly ended, and Russia let out a trembling breath. "To play _that_ song…how dare they? I will make them pay."

"Big Brother." Belarus came up beside Russia, her eyes shining. "I convey my love for you in song!"

Russia screamed, and jumped away from her. "Please, just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

* * *

><p>America checked the program. "So, Finland's up first?"<p>

"Yay, Papa-Finland!" Sealand cheered.

Clutching a guitar to his chest, Finland took several deep breaths. "I can't believe I drew first to go…"

"You'll be fine," Sweden said, patting him on the shoulder. "Just go out there and be yourself."

"Yeah!" Denmark cheered. "But don't be angry if I outshine you! _I _go third tonight, after all!"

Sweden glared murderously at Denmark before looking at Finland again. "You'll be fine."

"_Lycka till, Mamma_!" Åland cheered, hugging Hanatamago to her chest.

"_Tack_," Finland said, smiling slightly. He took another deep breath and faced the stage. "Well…here I go."

Finland received a generous applause as he walked onstage and took a seat at the stool in front of the microphone. He tested the strings of his guitar very briefly before he signaled he was ready.

"WOO-HOO!" Sealand cheered.

"You're pretty enthusiastic," Norway observed blandly.

"Because Papa-Finland is going to be singing about ME!" Sealand cheered.

Norway blinked. "What?"

Finland began playing in time with the piano behind him. He was conscious of everyone staring at him, but he didn't think about it as he leaned into the microphone. _"Peter is smart…he knows each European country by heart. He like to sit under an apple tree on his yard…And wait for an apple to fall."_

"I tried to grow an apple tree," Sealand said. "But I have no soil!"

"_When Peter is nine…His teacher tells him this planet is dying."_ Finland began to relax a little more, and could look at the audience. _"That someone needs to put and put an end to it all. And so when Peter comes home…He tells his mom…_

"_I'm going out in the world to save our planet. And I ain't comin' back until she's saved…"_

"And I DID save the planet!" Sealand punctuated. "But you all won't acknowledge it!"

"_Gud_," Norway groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"_Peter is young," _Finland continued to sing. _"He tries to talk but no one listens to him…"_

"You see?" Sealand pointed out to Norway. "He _is_ singing about me!"

"I get it!" Norway snapped. "Just _stop talking_! You're acting like America!"

"Hey!" America cried out indignantly.

"…You _were_ talking, too," Japan said quietly.

From the side of the stage, Hanatamago let out a loud bark. Suddenly, he jumped out of Åland's arms and ran out onstage.

"Hanatamago!" Åland cried out. She took off after him. "_Stanna_!"

"Åland!" Sweden shouted, but stopped in his tracks as the little girl rushed out onstage, right as Finland was singing! "_Skita_!"

"Wow, she took off!" Denmark laughed.

"Hey!" Sealand cried out. "Åland is running out onstage!"

Norway sat up a little straighter in his seat. "Uh oh…"

"_He walked…his way to see King and Parliament."_ Finland stumbled in his song and gaped slightly as his daughter knelt down in front of him to grab Hanatamago. _"But they all turned their heads and walked away…"_

"_Elak_, Hanatamago!" Åland scolded the dog obliviously. "_Du får inte springa ut på scenen medan mamma utför. Fundera över vad som skulle hända om…_"

"_Da da dam, da da da da da da, da da dam…"_ Finland continued to sing.

Åland realized her situation. She looked to her right and saw over 30,000 people staring at her. She yelped in alarm and stood up, clutching Hanatamago to her. After looking around frantically for a moment, she darted behind Finland to hide from all the eyes.

"_And now I'm going out in the world to save our planet."_ Finland finished the song as best as he could, with Åland kneeling behind him. _"And I ain't comin' back until she's saved…"_

"That little girl was cute, crashing the stage!" America laughed. "Put her back out there!"

"There's always bound to be a stage crasher," Spain mused.

Finland finished the song and got a roaring applause. As he stood up he took Åland by the hand and pulled her to his seat. They both bowed to the audience and left the stage.

Cells phones began to hum almost immediately in certain countries pockets. They all reached for their phones to see the results.

"We gave him zero points," Romano told Italy as he checked his phone.

Italy pouted, but still checked it. "Yep, zero points!"

"I gave him five points," Poland said.

"N-Nothing," Latvia stammered.

"I also gave him nothing," Spain said. Netherlands and Belgium concurred with him.

"Zero points," San Marino read sagely from his phone. "It doesn't look good for Finland…"

Norway checked his phone. "Twelve points." He snapped it shut. "I already gave out a perfect score. My judge must not give a damn, either…"

"Two points," Germany read from backstage. "And still _nothing_ from Aniki!"

"Seven points," Sweden said stoically, showing Finland his cell phone.

"I gave you five," Denmark offered.

"_Förlåt mig, Mamma!_" Åland wailed.

"_Jag inte arg_," Finland told her soothingly. "_Men använd lite känsla nästa gång_."

"She probably gets it from her _older brother_," Greenland said.

"B-But it was cute," Faroe cut in. "You singing about Sealand, and then Åland runs out onstage with you!"

Finland forced a smile, though his shoulders drooped. "I…don't think it went over well with the audience."

* * *

><p>It had been a long and exhaustive search, but England finally found it. He'd been sidetracked because he thought he saw an <em>alyphyn<em>, but now wasn't sure if he _had_ seen it or if it was part of his imagination.

But now he found the door—the _green room_ he'd been looking for. And all of the rage he'd carried inside him for two days was starting to spill out.

Not bothering with the doorknob, England kicked the door straight open and stormed inside. "IRELAND!" he hollered at the top of his voice. "HOW DARE YOU SNEAK INTO MY HOUSE AND STEAL MY TERRITORY!"

A room full of heads turned, and England froze. The anger faded into shock and horror as he regarded the many people staring at him.

_All_ of his former territories were in there. At least, all of those he'd called over the past two days, which was nearly all of them. Even Australia was there, and Wy was curled up next to him!

England stammered for a moment before the anger came back. "What the bloody hell! You all told me you were busy and couldn't help me! And WHEN did you get here, Australia? I just talk to you an hour ago!"

Australia shrugged remorselessly, his koala glared at England murderously from the top of his head. "I came after New Zealand and Wy told me you contacted them about your boy band. Seriously, mate, you contacted my little sister before me for your _boy band_?"

"**WHY** did all of you refuse if you were going to be here?" England screamed. He glared at Scotland and Wales, who were playing Go-Fish with India and Cameroon. "And you two! What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Sod off!" Scotland snapped, giving him the middle finger. "We agreed to do your stupid song with you, but we don't need to hang around you!"

"And we wouldn't miss this for the world!" Australia laughed.

"So you came here to _humiliate me_?" England began having terrible flashback to his 2010 performance, when all of his former territories heckled him mercilessly during his song. "IRELAND!" he hollered once more. "Where the bloody hell are you?"

"Hmm?" From the back of the room, Ireland stood up. "Are you talking to me, England?"

"Where is Northern Ireland?" England snapped. "Give him to me! He's supposed to be part of MY performance!"

Ireland's green eyes narrowed dangerously at her brother. "…Really? And how might he be part of _your_ performance when he's part of _mine_?" she dismissed him with her back to tend to Northern Ireland. Even though they were in the back of the room, England could see her slicking the little boy's red hair up so it stood straight.

"You snuck into my house and stole him from me!" England shouted. "You _knew_ I intended to have him in _my_ performance, so you sabotaged me with MY SIBLING!"

Ireland quickly turned back around, her eyes glowing with hate. "_Your_ sibling! I think not! I believe he has the name _Ireland_ as part of his name, not England! And while we're on the subject of _stealing territories_, wouldn't you say you're being a hypocritical _muc_, my _brother_? Considering the methods in which you used to acquire ALL OF US to be part of you!"

"You…it…" England stared at everyone in the room, who was either glaring at him or ignoring him. Frustrated beyond belief, he simply screamed in rage and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

><p>…Wow. This chapter ended up being <em>waaaaay<em> longer than I intended, so I only had room for one performance. That will change with future chapters. Here are some quick notes:

- The start of the first semi-finals was plagued with technical issues. In many countries viewers couldn't hear broadcasts by their commentators. Many commentators had to be heard via their cell phones. Then there were the first five performances, Poland, Norway, Albania, Armenia, and Turkey, all of which were in fact favorites to qualify. Apparently viewers in a lot of countries claim they couldn't hear the singing, or they didn't see the phone number to send in votes. Some voters in numerous countries have even claimed that when they sent in their votes they got a message back that said 'the voting has closed', or a variant of this. I'm not trying to sound biased towards Poland, but it looked like during Magdalena Tul's performance her microphone failed her. At times I could see her singing into her mic but I couldn't hear her. It's probably why she started screaming the song at the end…;_;. I guess the sound failed completely in Spain when Norway performed, because many viewers heard nothing but silence. The issues were fixed half-way into the program, although the sound would later fail again for Iceland and even Greece at the end of the show, though both countries qualified. It's a real shame, especially since it doesn't seem like the first five countries were judged fairly, and ESC has only come out and acknowledged the issues with the commentary. Everything else they blame on regional broadcastings. I hope the best for all of them next year.

- Sealand, at the beginning, is singing the song _Chester_, by William Billings. This was more or less the unofficial anthem of the American soldiers during the Revolutionary War, and was the second most popular song of the time behind _Yankee Doodle_. So, you can probably see why this song pissed England off, lol.

- Sealand's comment about saving the world of course refers to the Christmas Bloodbath 2010, where he _did_ save the world. Long story short, countries were being kidnapped by bizarro/shadow versions of themselves and Sealand saved everyone. Of course, it was a very traumatizing experience for the countries and so all of them are pretending it didn't happen, ala "it was all a dream". Poor Sealand. Oh, and Denmark was passed out drunk during the Bloodbath, only making an appearance for the after-party after the shadow people were gone, lol.

- A _boggart_ is a mythical creature from English lore that inhabits homes and creates havoc. They look like gnomes but they're filthy. Their only purpose is to constantly torment the people living in a house, and they thrive on their misery. One true way to get rid of a _boggart_ is to be so annoying to them that they can't handle it. But _boggarts_ are incredibly annoying creatures, so it's near impossible to get rid of them. The best solution offered to victims of _boggarts_ is to move out of the house as fast as possible. They have to do it quickly; otherwise the _boggart_ will pick up on their intentions and simply follow them to their new home. This information can be found at the website: 'Mythical Creatures Guide'.

- 50 Euros is the equivalent of 71 US dollars.

- Yes, Bulgaria and Romania's relationship is said to be "very intense", as they entered the European Union at the same time, and have very close economic relations.

- Belarus's actual entry this year was the song _I Love Belarus _by Anastasia Vinnikova. The song she sang however to qualify to represent Belarus in Eurovision was the song played in the montage, _Born in Belorussia_. It caused quite a bit of controversy, as you can imagine, and the lyrics had been changed initially to say _I am Belorussia_, before they changed the song entirely.

- Sealand's human name is Peter Kirkland. And I think it was the greatest coincidence in the world that the subject in Paradise Oskar's song was also named Peter, lol!

- _Alphyns _are wolf-dragon creatures of Germanic origin and they're popular in mythological sense because they're supposed to be incredibly rare. This information can also be found at the website, Mythical Creatures Guide.

Here's the translations for songs not in English, as can be found at Eurovision's website:

Bulgaria

"_No! Znam! Shte namerya sila v men! I nebeto do dostigna! Na inat! Na inat!"_

("But I know you'll find strength in me! Even to reach the sky! In spite of everything! In spite of everything!")

Poland

"_Jestem! Twym natchnieniem, dla łez ukojeniem! Twój świat kręci się wokół mnie—Jesteś! Moim cieniem! Na każde skinienie…Pojawiasz się tuż okok mnie Skaczesz w ogień gdy chcę…"_

("I'm your inspiration, I'm tears' consolation! Your world revolves around me! You are my shadow, to the beck and call! You appear right next to me! You jump into the fire when I want to…")

Cyprus:

"_San aggelos s'agapisa! Gyrna stin agkalia mou! Pes mou kai pali m'agapas!"_

("Like an angel I loved you! Come back into my arms! Tell me one more time that you love me!")


	2. Bosnia, Denmark, Lithuania, Hungary

Chapter 2

It was England's absolute last resort. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number. _Please, please, PLEASE pick up!_

The phone rang three times before an answer came. _"Ni hao!"_

"CHINA!" England shouted desperately into the phone. "If you do me a favor, I swear to **GOD** I'll do anything you want!"

There was a pregnant pause on the other line. _"…England."_

"China, please help me!" England pleaded. "I'm in trouble, and you're the only one who can help me!"

"_If you want money, aru, I gave enough of it to America."_ China sounded irritated…and tired. _"Look, you __**do**__ realize it's three in the morning at my house, right aru?"_

_You sounded __**wide awake**__ a second ago! _England fumed quietly. But he kept his temper in check as he reflected on the desperation of his situation. "China," he said. "I need a favor. I know you don't particularly want to _do _me any favors, but I really need help! Can't you please help me? I'll do anything you want!" he repeated himself.

China seemed ready to say something, but then he paused. _"…Anything, aru?"_

"**Anything**," England emphasized, feeling a surge of hope. "All you need to do is agree to come to Düsseldorf, Germany…and bring _him_."

"…_Him? What for?"_ China hissed suddenly. _"You aren't going to take him from me, are you aru?"_

"No!" England snapped. "He'll come right back to you! Just _please_ agree to come here and I'll bring you both here quickly, and afterwards I'll do whatever you want!"

"_Ah."_ China sounded like he relaxed a little on the other line. _"…All right."_

England gasped. "Oh, my God! Thank you so—"

"_**Before**__ we arrive though, I want to discuss this "favor" you will do for me, aru."_

"Er…" England swallowed thickly at the tone of his voice. "W-What did you have in mind?"

"…_Well. You __**did**__ say you would do anything—"_

"W-Wait!" England cried out. "I can't do—"

"_Too late, aru,"_ China said coldly. _"You said __**anything**__, and I agreed. I'm giving him to you for your own uses…so you must bend to __**me**__, aru."_

"Ah…" England felt light-headed. He could almost feel the color drain from his face. "C-China…"

"_Now then."_ China sounded incredibly cheerful all of a sudden. _"About these conditions…"_

* * *

><p>Serbia checked his phone, and saw a new text message. <em>"GOOD LUCK TONIGHT!"<em>

_- San Marino_

He closed his phone and regarded the couple in front of him. "It's time. Are you guys ready?"

"There's no need for you to smother us." Bosnia fixed his collar and brushed dark bangs out of his eyes. He swung his guitar over his shoulder. "We ranked fifth in our semi-final round. Besides, any song by Dino Merlin will_ always_ score points."

"That's right." Herzegovina smiled kindly at Serbia as she came over to stand beside Bosnia. "Our song is one of the strongest this year. And we know we can count on our brethren to look out for us."

Other countries began to converge upon them. Serbia wanted to instinctively stand up a little straighter, a little taller than the rest, but he remained still. "Three of us made it into the finals," he said. "With a lot of help from each other, of course."

"Nobody would doubt _your_ place in the finals." Macedonia folded his arms over his chest as he regarded Serbia. "_You've_ always been lucky in that regard."

"Did you think singing a song about falling in love with a Russian girl would get you brownie points?" Croatia teased, pinching Macedonia's cheek as she smiled at him. "It was too unfortunate that Russia couldn't vote for you. Ah." She smiled at Serbia. "_Hvala vam_ for giving me twelve points in our semi-final round. Though it wasn't enough for me to qualify."

"_Nema na čemu_," Serbia said. He saw the stagehand approaching them. "You two should go."

"We know," Bosnia said, though he forced a smile. "I look forward to the twelve points you give me."

"Let's go," Herzegovina said, taking by the hand and leading him towards the stage.

Slovenia scoffed, and rubbed a hand through his dark hair. "They've been united together since the 13th century, and let they're still glued at the hip. Pretty amazing, huh?"

"Perhaps," Macedonia said. "That they could remain together even after being conquered by Hungary, Turkey, and S—oops." He winced and forced a smile. "Sorry, Serbia."

"It is…no problem," Serbia said slowly. "But we were all united together in Yugoslavia, in both good times and bad."

"Ah…" Croatia rubbed a hand through her hair awkwardly. "I…need to go. Please excuse me…"

"She seems upset," Slovenia observed.

"Well, she has filed lawsuit against me after all," Serbia said. "Even with better relations, it's really surprising she's approached me civilly."

"…You filed lawsuit against her, too," Macedonia muttered.

* * *

><p>"<strong>The former Yugoslavia was an alliance formed by the Treaty of Versailles, parallel to that of the USSR, from 1918 to 1999. Headed by Serbia, this involved the territories of Bosnia, Macedonia, Slovenia, Herzegovina, Montenegro, Croatia, and Kosovo. It was a very tense alliance, with Serbia exercising total control and nations like Bosnia and Croatia suffering greatly from ethnic persecution. With the fall of the Soviet Union, most of the territories broke away from Serbia as their own nations, and Serbia would remain as Yugoslavia with Montenegro until 2006. <strong>

**Despite their tense past, Serbia has developed very close relations in recent years with his former territories, although Croatia and he are currently locked in dual lawsuits against each other about the aforementioned ethnic persecution. The only one of his former allies Serbia doesn't have relations with is Kosovo."**

* * *

><p>Japan checked his watch and stood up. "<em>Sunimasen<em>," he said to everyone. "But, I would really like to thank Greece-san for inviting me before he goes onstage. I just hope I don't get lost again."

"Why not just text him and ask him where he is?" America asked.

Japan perked up at that. "Why didn't I think of that sooner?"

Turkey scoffed and reclined back into his seat. "That brat got into the finals by the skin of his teeth! He's just scrounging for brownie points!" He muttered to himself and pulled out his cell phone. "…Can't believe this garbage…"

"Greece finished first in our semi-final round," Poland pointed out. "That's, like, totally far from the skin of his teeth."

"_Kahretsin_," Turkey grumbled under his breath, thumping on the key pad of his phone.

Japan felt a tug on the back of his shirt. He turned around and looked straight down to see the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus smiling innocently up at him. "I can take you to Greece!"

"_A-Arigato_," Japan stammered.

"Ah!" Turkey snapped as they started away. "Northern Cyprus! Don't take Japan to that brat! He might do something _bad_ to him!"

"It'll be okay!" the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus called out to him. Turkey was about to shout back at him, but then he noticed a peculiar note in the boy's voice. Saying no more, he pocketed his cell phone.

Bosnia and Herzegovina took the stage with their fellow musicians. Bosnia took his place at the microphone, and Herzegovina sat down at the piano.

"Looks like I'm just in time."

Romano stiffened, and clamped a hand down on Italy's arm. Spain obliviously lit up, though. "_Hola_, Francis! And—PORTUGAL!"

Everyone turned to see France standing in the aisle, twirling a rose around his fingers. Portugal was standing beside him, and Spain jumped out of his seat to give him a hug. Romano scoffed from his seat. "It's so nice to see you, but I'm sorry you didn't get into the finals!"

"It's fine," Portugal said plainly. "I would've come sooner, but I was talking to Brazil on my phone."

"_No_, it's fine! Come, sit next to me!"

"_Razoável_. Ah." Portugal smiled when he saw Romano. "_Boa noite_."

"Whatever," Romano grumbled.

France chuckled and regarded Canada, who was sitting in front of him. "I see an open seat beside you, Mattie. May I take it?"

"S-Sure," Canada stammered, tucking in slightly as France moved into the row. He seemed relieved France didn't ask to _share_ a seat. "You look n-nice, France…"

"Ah, _merci_." France was dressed in Victorian clothing, and his blonde hair tied in a ponytail with a pink ribbon. "I think this will suit my performance just fine, _oui_?"

America looked at him and made a face. "Why are you dressed like Lestat from _Interview with the Vampire_?"

France laughed loudly, but was cut off by the harmonizing onstage. Bosnia and Herzegovina were launching into their song. _"One to hundred…multiplied by you. It all looks great…it all looks good."_

"Wow," America said slowly. "Your guy's songs this year are so mellow!"

"_Mine_ wasn't mellow," Poland fumed to himself.

"Why not wait until after _two songs_ perform before you decide if all the songs are mellow?" Netherlands asked.

"You're plenty mellow yourself," Belgium pointed out.

* * *

><p>"<em>Oh, on the surface…oh, in the distance…it's all the same."<em>

Greece yawned widely and pulled at his hair. "It's standing on end. I can't let Japan see me like this…"

Cyprus was idly reading a magazine on the other side of the green room. "He answered your invitation, right? I think he'll be happy to see you no matter _what_ you look like."

"Hmm." Greece managed a small smile at his reflection. "I'm just glad…Turkey didn't qualify."

"_Neh_, me too." Cyprus laughed to himself. "All he's been bragging about for _years_ is how much better he does than us at these contests. _Now_ look at him, not even in the finals this year!" he winced slightly. "Well…neither am I."

"GREECE!"

Both countries jumped, but Greece quickly turned around in irritation as someone ran into his green room and crushed him in a hug. "I've been looking all over for you! Why didn't you tell your good friend where your green room was?"

"_Yia sou_, Albania," Cyprus said blandly, closing his magazine.

"_Halo_, Cyprus." Albania let Greece and positively smiled at him. His olive skin always gave a peculiar coloring to his black hair, as though he had natural blue highlights. He was dressed very fashionably as well. "I wanted to make sure to wish Greece good luck tonight!"

"…_Efxaristo_," Greece said reluctantly. He rubbed at his forehead as he turned away from Albania. _Please, please go away…_

"Everything is just so _outrageous_, though!" Albania said, his mood quickly going sour. "I mean, I didn't have half as many technical issues as Poland and Norway did! And the audience responded well to my song! Why couldn't they just _count_ my votes and own up to the mistakes? It was too widespread to be an isolated incident! _Mallkoj_!" he punched the wall in frustration.

It was the exact same argument that Turkey kept bringing up over the first semi-final controversy. While Greece thought some things didn't work out well for those five countries, he was honestly getting tired of constantly hearing about it. He glanced at Cyprus, and saw the annoyance in the young man's face. "Albania—"

"You know what they should do?" Albania cut in, pointing his finger. "What they _need_ to do is let Kosovo enter the contest! All of this eastern-bloc voting…and _Serbia_ always qualifying! Songs with _substance_ deserve to get through!"

"I…don't think Serbia would like to see Kosovo compete," Greece said at length. He played with one of his cats to distract himself.

"_Jo_, of course not! We mustn't upset _**Serbia**_, should we? Ohhhhh…" Albania clenched his fists and he shook with rage. Suddenly, his head rose and he was smiling again. "But your song is MUCH better than his, Greece! You're going to totally beat him!"

Greece didn't really care if he beat Serbia or not, but he was getting a headache. "I appreciate that…"

* * *

><p>"<strong>A poor country with a positive attitude, Albania has been known for easily making friends, but also holding steadfast with issues with enemies. He had his first taste of independence in 1912, after 500 years of occupation by the Ottoman Empire. Unfortunately this didn't last very long, as he was invaded by Fascist Italy in World War II, and then annexed into the USSR after the war. But he loved the taste of freedom, and never gave up on his dream of it, obtaining independence once more in 1991.<strong>

**Although currently plagued with several human rights issues linked to both the Albanian mafia and corrupt police officers, Albania is very progressive when it comes to the LGBT community. He likes to think of himself as Greece's best friend, especially with their similar history, but Greece is often annoyed with him. He has also designated himself as Kosovo's **_**de facto**_** protector against Serbia, with whom he has terrible relations."**

* * *

><p>"<em>S-Sunimasen<em>."

Greece immediately perked up at this voice, and brushed past Albania with surprising energy. "Japan! You really came!"

"I'm sorry to disturb you while you're getting ready," Japan said, taking off-guard slightly as Greece grabbed his hands. "I hope I'm not disturb—"

"Nonsense, come in!" Greece dragged him further into the room. "With everything that's happened with you, Japan, I'm very honored that you found time to come!"

"Greece, you didn't forget I'm still here, did you?" Albania asked, laughing lightly.

"I'm glad to see you looking healthy," Cyprus added to Japan, ignoring Albania. "Do you feel okay?"

"Ah…" Japan ducked his head slightly and a rubbed a hand through his hair. "There are still many things that must be done, but I'm alive."

"_Neh_." Greece smiled at him. "And you can—"

"_Erkek orospusu_!"

The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus screamed this as he ran into the room and kicked Greece hard in the shin, interrupting his moment with Japan.

"You little—!" Cyprus shouted, jumping to his feet.

"I got you both off-guard!" Northern Cyprus shrieked with laughter, running over to kick his brother even harder than Greece.

"…Is _that_ why you brought me back here?" Japan asked slowly.

"_Poutanas yié_!" Cyprus hollered, hobbling on one leg.

Northern Cyprus ran over to kick Albania as well. But he stopped mid-swing when he recognized the other country. "Ah, hi Albania!"

"…Hi," Albania said warily, as if aware that the micro nation stopped because he was close friends with Turkey. "Turkey's not too mad still is he?"

Northern Cyprus shrugged. "Of course he is. But Azerbaijan said she'll represent both her people _and_ Turkey, and that made him feel better."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"COME HERE!" Cyprus shrieked, quickly recovering. "I'm not in the finals so I'm _not_ afraid of getting arrested for KILLING YOU!"

"Nya!" Northern Cyprus stuck his tongue out at him and took off running out of the room. Cyprus gave chase, but he ran smack into something that moved quickly passed the room.

Japan slowly blinked. "Was that…a _unicorn_?"

Greece shrugged. "I've got some ouzo in here. Want some?"

"…Maybe after the show…"

"Oh, _wow_!" Albania gasped, looking at his phone. "I gave Bosnia and Herzegovina seven points!"

Greece glared at him as he checked his own phone. "…Three points."

* * *

><p>Bosnia and Herzegovina finished with their performance and received a roaring applause. The scores were sent out as they left the stage.<p>

"Eight points," Netherlands said.

"Five!" France cheered.

"Nothing," Poland said.

"Me too," San Marino said.

"And me," Latvia said.

"Four points," Norway read blandly.

"We gave them four points too!" Italy cheered.

"Ten," Turkey said.

"Zero," Spain said. He saw that Portugal gave them zero points as well. "Ah,_ mi amigo _we're thinking a lot alike!"

"Perfect score," Serbia said, showing the couple his cell phone.

"Me too!" Slovenia shouted.

"And me!" Macedonia shoved himself forward as well.

"Seven," Croatia said. "But that's three perfect scores that we know about! That's an _amazing_ start, you two!"

"I certainly had fun!" Herzegovina laughed.

"There's still the rest of the show, though," Bosnia said warily.

* * *

><p>"…Wow," Austria said at length as he looked at his phone.<p>

"What is it?" Hungary asked over her shoulder.

"I gave Bosnia and Herzegovina twelve points. I already gave away my perfect score."

"Ah." Hungary forced a smile as she looked at the mirror again. "I gave them nothing, though…"

"I gave them seven points," Germany grumbled, punching his cell phone key pad and reading his words aloud. "You…had…better…be…here…or…I'll…kill you!"

"Mr. Austria!"

The three countries jumped as Liechtenstein ran into the room. "I just heard you gave Bosnia twelve points! That's a wonderful coincidence!"

"Did you also give them twelve points?" Austria asked. "Ah, never mind, you aren't competing—"

"_Nein_, Nii-san gave out the score!"

Austria looked at the doorway. Switzerland was standing there, looking mildly uncomfortable. "That's…nice," Austria said at length.

"I must get ready for my performance later," Switzerland said quickly. He motioned to Liechtenstein. "Come, let's go."

"…All right." Liechtenstein hurried back over to the door.

"Good luck tonight," Hungary added.

Switzerland only gave her a slight glance. "_Danke_."

"Hungary, can I borrow your phone?" Germany asked irritably. "Maybe if Aniki sees someone else's number then he'll _answer me_!"

"I'd…rather not." Hungary frowned. "If he finds out my phone number, then he'll never stop calling me."

* * *

><p><strong>Oji-san (mobile)<strong>

"_Are you feeling nervous?"_

Iceland rubbed at his forehead as he texted back. _"That's stupid to ask, isn't it? I'm going to be performing soon."_

He sent the response. Before he could tuck his phone into his pocket though, his phone beeped and he got another text message back.

"_No need to be fresh, Bocchan. Is it wrong for me to be concerned?"_

Iceland could almost hear him say these words. _"Please don't call me Bocchan. But I guess you're right. I shouldn't have called your message stupid. I'm sorry."_

"_Don't apologize. I shouldn't be rattling your nerves so close to your performance."_

"_Nineteen other countries perform before me, so my attitude isn't really necessary right now."_ Iceland felt embarrassed to be writing like this, but it was so…strange. He just couldn't help but be open. And it was easier to be open to a text message. _"You should probably watch out though. My brother and the others are trying to snoop around my text messages."_

"O-kay!" Denmark shouted, stretching out his arms. Iceland was standing a little further away from the other Nordics. "It's time for me to go! I'm going to give it everything I got!"

"Y-Your song is very popular," Finland said. "So you do have a good chance."

"But I must try my absolute hardest!" a sinister grin broke out across Denmark's face and he cackled loudly. "I _must_ get in the top five! I _must_ win against Norge! _Everything _is riding on this!"

"So…that's the only reason you're trying?" Sweden asked.

"Wish me luck!" Denmark cheered.

"…Good luck," Greenland said at length.

"Good luck!" Faroe said more sincerely. "We'll hurry into the audience to sit with Norway!"

"So will I," Finland said, picking Åland up into his arms. He smiled at Sweden. "We'll watch you from the audience, Su-san."

"_Lycka till, Papa_!" Åland cheered, leaning up to give Sweden a kiss on the cheek.

"_Tak_," Sweden said.

"_Hej_!" Denmark whined. "_I'm _the one going onstage now! Cheer _me_ on!"

Iceland heard his phone beep again. Sighing to himself, he pulled it out to check his message.

"_Would it bother you if they knew me that way?"_

His heart thudded irregularly. He glanced at his fellow Nordics, and thought of Norway in the audience. He looked back down at the message. Without answering back, he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

* * *

><p>Norway saw the other Nordics approaching, and knew Denmark was about to take the stage. He rubbed a hand over his face and tried to remain calm. <em>It's fine. He just can't get that many points! He HAS to remain out of the top five!<em>

"You did great, Papa-Finland!" Sealand cheered as Finland took a seat beside him. "It was such an awesome song!"

"_Kiitos_," Finland said, setting Åland down in the seat.

"I'm going to ask you both to _not_ vote for Denmark," Norway all but commanded Greenland and Faroe.

"We can't anyways," Greenland said. "We're _part_ of him, remember?"

"I want to vote for Iceland this year," Faroe mused.

"I'm going to vote for Sweden," Greenland said, smirking. "That should _really_ piss Denmark off!"

"Why are you concerned if they vote for Denmark?" Finland asked Norway. "Is it because of your wager?"

Norway gave him a dark look, but said nothing.

Italy groaned in dismay as he looked at his phone. "Germany hasn't answered my text message!" he glared at Romano. "It's because _you_ made me hang up on him, Nii-san!"

"Oh, what a _great_ tragedy!" Romano said with heavy sarcasm.

"Japan hasn't come back yet," Turkey said feelingly. He seemed pretty upset.

"Yeah," America said, craning his head around. "Did he get lost trying to find Greece again?"

Music rose from the stage. _"Come on boys; come on girls…in this crazy, crazy world. You're the diamonds, you're the pearls, let's make a new tomorrow…today."_

Silhouette lights lit up the stage, revealing Denmark standing front and center. He had a very intense look on his face. _"Wake up! Slow down! Do nothing right now! Breathe in! Breathe out! Did we forget! How to live, to dream! And what it all means…"_

"Wow, he's really into it," Finland said slowly.

"Well, he wants to win, right?" Sealand asked happily.

Norway grumbled under his breath.

"_Come on boys! Come on girls! In this crazy, crazy world!"_ Denmark sang with a lot of feeling, and it looked like he was putting full-effort into his performance. _"You're the diamonds, you're the pearls! Let's make a new tomorrow! Come on girls! Come on boys! It's your future, it's your choice! And your weapon is your voice! Let's make a new tomorrow…today!"_

"All right, this is what I'm talking about!" America yelled. "Now_ this_ is music!"

"…What about _my_ song?" Finland asked, clearly offended.

Iceland watched it backstage with Sweden. "If he puts this much effort into his songs while either trying to _impress_ Norway or beat him, what happens with other motivations?"

"…Bad stuff," Sweden said at length.

Mr. Puffin flew up to rest on Iceland's shoulder and Iceland patted him idly.

"_Come on boys! Come on girls!"_ Denmark continued to sing. _"In this crazy, crazy world…"_

"He's just repeating the same verse over and over again," Norway said coldly. "What kind of lazy song is _that_?"

"Wow, you're _really _acting out of character today!" Greenland laughed. "Is it because of that stupid bet you made?"

"_Faen i helvete._" Norway scrubbed a hand over his face. A fairy flew down and sat upon his shoulder, patting him on his cheek in a comfort gesture.

"_Let's make a new tomorrow…today."_ Denmark finished and bowed deeply receiving many screams and cheers. He blew a kiss at the audience, particularly in the direction the countries were sitting. Norway couldn't help but flinch.

"Six points," Latvia read his score aloud.

"Three," Poland said, suddenly standing up. "I have to, like, go backstage. Wait here a moment."

"But what's going to happen if _Russia_ comes out here?" Latvia wailed.

"You'll be _fine_!"

"Seven points," France read.

"Nothing," Spain said.

"Ah!" Finland cried out as he looked at his phone. "I didn't give Denmark anything!"

"…_Takk_," Norway said slowly.

"I gave him a perfect score."

"_Who_ did?" Norway burst out, twisting around in his seat.

A few rows back, Netherland shrugged. "_I _did. What's wrong with that?"

"Zero points," Belgium said.

"Four points!" San Marino cheered.

"We didn't score him," Italy said. Romano shrugged.

Norway let out his breath slowly and regarded his own cell phone. _I already gave away my perfect score. So, I can't really give him high points!_

"What score did you give him?" Faroe asked.

After a moment, Norway flipped open his phone. "…Seven points." He sighed in relief and leaned back into his seat. _That's just thirty-nine points so far. That's not bad at all…_

"_**Men du vet ikke alles score, ikke sant?"**_

Norway jumped in alarm, and glared at his green troll floating in front of him. "_Please_ don't startle me like that."

The troll shrugged. _**"Ditt sinne har tillatt kreftene dine til å kjøre ut av kontroll. Har du ikke sett de skapningene du har tilfeldigvis tilkalt? Men..." **_the troll snickered._** "Det er veldig morsomt."**_

"Whoa, look at THAT!" America cried out. "Is that a floating troll?"

"Why don't you go back and bother Germany some more?" Norway said, rubbing at his forehead again.

"_**Men ønsker du å vite alles score?"**_

"Ten points," Sweden said blandly as Denmark approached Iceland and him.

"All right!" Denmark cheered. He wiped his face with a towel. "The more points the better! I _must_ defeat Norge!"

Sweden didn't want to ask, but curiosity got the better of him. "…What exactly _did_ you wager?"

Denmark chuckled, and slid an arm around Sweden's shoulders. "Well…" he paused when he saw Iceland staring blankly at them. "Ah, would you excuse us for a moment, Ice?"

"I already have a…vague idea about your wager," Iceland said blandly.

Denmark only grinned at him and walked off with Sweden.

Now standing alone, Iceland pulled out his cell phone to check his score. "…Twelve points." He looked after the two older Nordics. "I gave him a perfect score." He sighed sadly and tucked his phone away. "Norway's going to kill me…"

* * *

><p>"Ten points," Estonia said, checking his phone. He looked at Lithuania. "Did you score Denmark, Toris?"<p>

"…_Ne_, Eduard." Lithuania brushed out his suit once more and shivered slightly. "I'm next. I can't believe I'm next…"

"Just don't think about it. Go out there and have fun."

"R-Right." Lithuania forced a trembling smile at Estonia. "Would you come with me?"

Estonia fixed his glasses on his face. "…All right."

They slowly filed out of their green room. Lithuania turned to walk towards the stage when he felt a brush of cold air on the nap of his neck. "Lithuania."

Lithuania yelped, and jumped back as he spun around. "R-R-Russia!"

"I want to wish you good luck," Russia said cheerfully, though his smile was cold. "But why do you avoid me before you go onstage?"

"Uh…ah…" Lithuania quickly looked at Estonia. Estonia didn't look afraid of Russia, but that wasn't reassuring for Lithuania. "I-I-I'm nervous—"

Russia leaned forward, his grin widening. "Are you implying that I _make_ you nervous, my little Lithuania? That's not very nice of you, is it?"

"Ah…I…"

"Russia," Estonia cut in harshly. "You're distressing him and he has to go onstage right now. Can you _please_ stop it?"

Russia turned his cold smile to Estonia. "You're still quite rude to me, Estonia. For what cause do I deserve it? It's making me very upset, you know."

Estonia swallowed thickly, but he stood his ground. "We—"

"_**HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEJ**_!"

Lithuania and Estonia jumped. Russia however didn't react as Poland ran up and shoved himself between Lithuania and Russia. "I'm not going to warn you again!" he hollered, jabbing Russia hard in the sternum with his index finger. "Don't you EVER go near Liet _ever again_, or I'll, like, totally make Warsaw your capital!"

_I must be invisible_, Estonia thought sourly.

Russia's smiled slipped only slightly. "Well _hello_, Poland. I've been meaning to _thank you_ for turning Belarus upon me…"

"I, like, totally got her on speed-dial!" Poland laughed jokingly in his face, waving his cell phone. "Why don't we _invite_ her to the party?"

"Feliks—" Lithuania began.

"Excuse me!" a stagehand hurried over to them. "Are _all of you _fighting? And just before your performance, Lithuania?"

"We're having a _civil discussion_," Russia said plainly. "Between old friends."

"But we're _very busy_!" Poland snapped, wrapping his arms around Lithuania's shoulders. "So _kindly_ stop distracting Liet! Let's go!"

Poland dragged Lithuania off, leaving Estonia there with Russia. Undeterred, the Baltic country sighed and straightened his glasses. _So Poland only cares if Toris is involved. Great…_

"Estonia," Russia said behind him. "Don't think I've forgotten your rudeness."

Estonia scoffed and glared at Russia over his shoulder. "I'm not Raivis, so don't think you can just _scare_ me like you use to! I'm still my own country, and you're not a threat to me anymore!"

Estonia stormed off, leaving Russia standing there alone. "…Everyone is so rude. I don't understand why."

* * *

><p>"And Lithuania is next!" America read from the program.<p>

"Yay, Toris!" Latvia cheered obligingly.

France suddenly looked up. "Ah! England has decided to come out here!"

England was indeed approaching them, but he looked a bit upset. He kept rubbing at his forehead. "Why did I agree…why did I agree…"

"So did you find a fourth member for your boy-band?" America asked snidely.

"…_Yes_," England said reluctantly. "However, I—CANADA?"

Canada jumped at the end of the row and turned towards England. "H-Hello."

"W-When did _you_ get here?"

"I-I've been here this whole time."

"W-WHAT?" England screamed. "You were here? Sitting in that spot? WHEN?"

"T-This whole time," Canada repeated himself, hugging Kumajirou to him.

"T-Then…I could've asked YOU!" he pointed at Canada. "I could've asked _you_ to be the fourth member! _WHY_ didn't you say anything earlier? You could've spared me!"

"Spared you from what?" France laughed.

England flushed, and quickly took a seat beside Turkey. "…Nothing."

From backstage, Lithuania shivered again. "I'm not so sure about this…"

"You'll do _great_, Liet." Poland smiled at him. "You're singing, like, a totally epic love ballad. Think of your most precious person and imagine you're, like, totally singing to them!"

Lithuania smiled slightly and calmed down. "…Right. That's what I did in my semi-finals."

"That's the spi—"

"I'll just imagine I'm dancing with Belarus in a flower field!"

Poland's face fell. "Wait, w-what?"

"My most perfect date with Belarus, without the usual misunderstandings!" Lithuania clarified happily.

"Don't tell me," Poland said slowly. "That when you say 'misunderstandings' that you're referring to her unhealthy habit of _breaking your bones_!"

"Thank you for the encouragement," Lithuania said obliviously. "I must go now!"

Lithuania hurried onstage, leaving Poland gaping after him. He looked at Estonia as he approached. "He, like, totally isn't serious for _Belarus_, is he?"

Estonia shrugged. "He didn't care when she broke his nose last year. Or when she broke all ten of his fingers on a date."

"Or when she broke his leg when they were kids," Poland fumed. "Liet is, like, totally the _biggest idiot_ on Earth!"

"But if his _fantasy_ gives him proper motivation, then it all works out, right?"

"Wow, look at Lithuania!" America gasped. "What kind of colors are those for a suit?"

"They look like the color of his flag," England said.

The piano began playing behind Lithuania. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _I'm singing to Belarus. I just have to focus on that…_

"_Great is the sorrow…But…just look straight for tomorrow…When sun will shine at your face…Don't close your eyes."_

Lithuania closed his eyes and tried to focus on his fantasy. _"Those…who went through desert…Passed…never-ending forever…They know my dreams will come true…As I…sing to you…"_

"_**Liet! I, like, totally have an epic dress! Look at how **_pink_** it is!"**_

"_C'est m-m-ma vie!"_ Lithuania sputtered at the image of a cross-dressing Poland entered his mind. _"je dis oui! No more waiting round! I know I have found!"_

"Look, he's faltering!" Poland fumed. "I, like, totally told him to imagine something more pleasant!"

"_No more waiting round! I know I have found!"_ Lithuania sang out, trying to stop the sharp hammering of his heart. _"Everlasting love for life! Love of mine! Love the time…"_

"His French is very good," France chuckled to himself.

"But he'll get low marks because of it," England muttered.

Lithuania took a deep breath and let it out slowly. That mental image took him off-guard, but he couldn't let it happen again. _"Time will give the answers…For…all your great tribulation…Soon we'll be playing in the sun—"_

"_**What are you doing? Are you all right?"**_

"_**Well, I just wondered if I could do this…and wow! It seems, like, I totally can!"**_

"_uh—um—And feel like one!"_ Lithuania almost cursed out loud. What was he doing? He kept trying to picture his perfect date with Belarus, but instead he was conjuring up odd memories of _Poland_! _"C'est ma vie! Je dis oui! No more waiting around!"_

"Maybe Russia really scared him?" Estonia said. "And that's why he keeps messing up?"

"_Bękart_," Poland grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"…_Everlasting love for life."_ Lithuania was shaking as he neared the close of his song. He couldn't understand his psyche. _"Love that shines…love of mine."_

"_**Even if you, like, totally hate me…it totally doesn't change that I like you."**_

"_Love of time…love of mine."_ Lithuania sighed, and wiped at his forehead. _"C'est ma vie!"_

He got a modest applause and he bowed deeply. He was quick to hurry off the stage though. _Why? Why did I do that? I wanted to imagine Belarus's face, but I kept bringing up __**Feliks**__! _

"**LIET!**"

"Eh?" Lithuania saw Poland himself running at him. He flushed as the smaller country tackled him in a tight hug, sending them both sprawling backwards onto the stage. "F-F-Feliks! What's wrong?"

"Look, LOOK!" Poland shoved his cell phone in Lithuania's face as he lay atop him. "Twelve points! I, like, totally gave you a _PERFECT SCORE_, Liet!"

"Ah…" Lithuania forced a smile, and forced them both in a sitting position. "_Ačiū_, Feliks."

"_Ačiū_? _That's it_?" Poland pouted like a child. "I, like, totally gave you my bestest score and you're, like, totally ungrateful!"

"T-That's not it, Feliks…" Lithuania gently pushed Poland off him. As much as he hated it, he wanted to give himself some distance from Poland for a little while. _I felt like I was singing directly to him. But why?_

"_Vabandust_," Estonia said, waving his cell phone. "My judge found it fitting to _not_ score you…"

"I-It's okay," Lithuania said, standing up. He tried to ignore the look Poland was giving him. "I didn't do that well tonight. Here, Feliks…" he held his hand out to him.

Poland scoffed and jumped to his feet on his own. "You didn't do well because you, like, _totally_ didn't take my advice! Look what a fantasy of _Belarus _did to you!"

"Ah…er…"

"Look!" America howled with laughter as he pointed to the side of the stage. "Lithuania and Poland are _fighting_!"

"D-Did Poland give him a poor score?" Latvia said fearfully. Poland gave an incoherent shout and stormed offstage, unmindful of the people watching them. Lithuania and Estonia quickly followed behind him. "But I gave Toris seven points…"

"Six points," England said. "But see, the French lyrics ruined his song."

"HEY!" France snapped.

"One point!" Spain cheered.

"…Three," Norway said.

"I-I didn't score him," Finland said.

"Neither did us," Romano said to Italy. He nodded as he closed his phone. "We're being frugal with points. That's good."

"I didn't score, either!" San Marino cheered. "That makes me frugal too, right?"

"It makes you _something_," Seborga muttered.

Italy sat there very still for a moment before he pulled out his cell phone. "I'm calling Germany!"

"NOT AGAIN!" Romano hollered.

Spain laughed and hugged him from behind. "Romano…let Italy have some fun, _no_?"

"Shut up!"

* * *

><p>"—<em>just know you do fine, Germany!"<em>

"_Mange tak_," Germany spoke into his cell phone. He checked his watch as he followed Austria and Hungary towards the stage. "You're going to fine too, Italy. I'll make sure to cheer for you."

"_And I'll cheer my absolute lou—NII-SAN!"_ Italy shouted suddenly. _"What are you—"_

"_STOP CALLING HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SHOW!"_

The line abruptly disconnected. Germany sighed and hung up the phone. _It looks like the only way I can talk to or be near Italy is if Romano is __**not**__ around him…_

"It's my turn now." Hungary fiddled awkwardly with the pink metallic bracelet around her right wrist. "I withdrew last year…but I made it this far. So I _must_ give it my best shot!"

"You'll do great," Austria reassured her. "Your song is really good this year."

"_Hungary!_"

Germany flinched at this voice, but Hungary's whole face lit up. "Po-chan!" she spun around just in time to be enveloped in a tight hug by Poland. "You came back here to see me?"

"Both Liet and you! You look totally fabulous!" Poland positively smiled at her. Germany absently noticed that Poland too was wearing a pink metallic bracelet around his right wrist. "I, like, totally wanted to wish you both good luck! I already, like, totally gave Liet my perfect score, but I'm sure to give you a high one too!"

"I really do appreciate it!" Hungary hugged him again. "_Köszönöm!_"

* * *

><p>"<strong>Hungary and Poland, simply put, are true BFFs. They have been friends for many centuries, and though oftentimes on opposing sides of war they have remained exceptionally close. Each alliance formed between the two, while none everlasting, always ended amicably for both sides. So close is their friendship that both countries have designated March 23rd as a joint holiday to celebrate their longstanding friendship."<strong>

* * *

><p>Poland then saw Germany over Hungary's shoulder. His happy expression immediately turned sour, and he drew away from the woman. "<em>Cześć<em>, Germany," he hissed.

"_Hallo_," Germany said calmly, not looking at the anger in the other country's eyes. "I-I've heard that ESC has ignored the appeal you filed. I truly am sorry—"

"Well, it _can't_ be helped," Poland interjected harshly. "With all the _technical issues_ and all. My commentator couldn't broadcast! My microphone, like, totally didn't work! _And_ my votes weren't counted! It's _truly_ everyone's loss if you're so totally threatened by my abilities that you have to _sabotage _me, but hey! Warsaw would've been, like, totally the _greatest_ setting for Eurovision 2012! So it's _truly_ everyone's loss."

Germany swallowed thickly. He knew he wasn't at fault for everything Poland alleged, but it still stung. "Poland—"

"Po-chan," Hungary interjected, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm truly sorry for your circumstances. But _please_ be pleasant. Germany is our host, after all, and I'm about to go onstage."

Poland relaxed only slightly, and forced a smile at Hungary. "For your sake, Hungary! I totally don't want anything unpleasant to happen to you before you go onstage, like with Liet!"

"Something happened to Lithuania?"

"Well…Russia was bothering him. Same old, same old." Poland shrugged. "Some idiots don't get the message the first one-million times."

They all began walking towards the stage. Austria fell back to walk with Germany. "I would keep an eye on the audience for Gilbert," he told him. "I don't believe he would miss Elizabeta's performance."

"Me, either," Germany said, feeling some hope return to him. "His albino features will be impossible to miss."

Hungary looked up over Poland's head, and said Wallachia leaning against the opposite wall, smiling sinisterly. Hungary scoffed and turned her head away. _Kurva…_

* * *

><p>"Ah!" Italy cried out. "Miss Hungary is next!" he waved an arm wildly. "MISS HUNGARY!"<p>

"Ugh," Romano groaned, pressing a hand over his face.

"Yay, Hungary!" Belgium cheered, clapping for her longtime friend.

Latvia kept glancing over his shoulder. "Nobody's seen Russia, right?"

Hungary took her spot onstage. She didn't realize how _chilly_ the arena was! And her legs were almost entirely bare!

_It's fine._ She took a deep breath and let it out. _I'm going to do great!_

As she focused on the audience, something caught her eye in the large crowd in front of her. Was it a mistake? No…no, those were _definitely_ red eyes staring at her!

_Prussia!_ She snapped her teeth together. _You fattyú! No, no…I've lived too long for him to just simply take me off-guard! I will give it my best shot!_

The music began playing. Hungary gestured with her hand, but she blatantly pointed at the bastard standing in front of her. _Let's see how you like the turnabout!_

"_I always stood behind you…always close. Stood by your side no matter what…the cost."_

"Goooo, Hungary!" Poland cheered from the side of the stage.

"…Was she pointing to someone?" Germany asked. "I couldn't quite tell."

"_What about my life!"_ Hungary belted out. _"What about my dreams! What about how—I feel! What about my needs!"_ she whipped her hair, becoming very enthused. _"I can't hold back! I can't go back! I must be free!"_

Austria's pocket hummed. Irritated by the distraction, he quickly pulled out his cell phone to check the new message.

**Prussia (mobile)**

"_It looks like she feels TRAPPED! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"_

Anger and indignation snapped through Austria quickly. He grabbed Germany by his sleeve. "Gilbert's here!" he hissed. "He's here and he's watching Elizabeta's performance!"

"Shhhhh!" Poland snapped.

"He _is_?" Germany cried out. "But where?" they both looked back towards Hungary.

"_Tíz lépés…"_ for this verse Hungary switched to her native language, and was greeted by many cheers. _"Száz lépés távolság kell…"_

"Wait, she gesture earlier," Germany said. "Maybe she saw Aniki?"

"That might be it," Austria said, looking through the crowd. He was _definitely_ not going to tolerate Prussia tonight! _Especially_ since he had to perform!

"_What about my life!"_ Hungary switched back to English. _"What about my dreams!" _she gestured a finger low, to the crowd moshing in front of her. _"What about how—I feel!"_

"THERE!" Germany shouted, recognizing a head of silver hair bouncing with the other bodies. "**A-NI-KIIIIIIII**!"

"Wait—GERMANY!" Austria shouted.

Not caring that Hungary was still performing, Germany dove out onto the stage and jumped off the edge, straight into the crowd.

"_Do kurwy nędzy_?" Poland hollered. "Is he crazy? _Nie_." Poland quickly shook his head. "I already _know_ the answer!"

Italy gaped from the audience. "Did…did Doitsu just do a stage dive?"

"What a _fucking moron_!" Romano growled.

"This is tuning into an awesome show!" America laughed loudly.

Hungary continued as though she hadn't seen Germany. _"I—won't go back! (I must be free!) I need to be –All I can be!"_

She finished and bowed. She still left the stage smiling, so it was difficult to tell if she was upset about Germany's intrusion.

"O-Oh my goodness!" Finland cried out as he checked his phone. "Twelve points! I gave her my perfect score!"

"Six points," Spain read.

"Nothing, _again_," Italy said mournfully.

"We're still conserving points," Romano justified.

"Two," France said.

"Zero," Latvia said. Other countries in their group confirmed the same.

Poland was staring at his phone, horrified. "_O nie…_"

"Is something wrong Po-chan?" Hungary asked as she came over to them. She was positively smiling. "Did you see Germany? He caught my message and went after that bastard!"

"H-Hungary…" tears filled Poland's eyes as he regarded his close friend. "My judge…he didn't give you a score! I-I just don't understand!"

Hungary stroked his cheek comfortingly. "This is my just-desserts, I think. I gave you such a low score in our semi-final round, after all…"

"But I didn't score you then, either!" Poland wailed. He threw his arms around Hungary and started crying.

Austria coughed discreetly and fixed his glasses. "Er…I gave you two points."

"And I appreciate it." Hungary laughed sinisterly as she hugged Poland to her. "And…I look forward to seeing that bastard be ripped apart…"

Austria laughed very uncomfortably. "Ah…Elizabeta…"

* * *

><p>Characterizing Albania and the former Yugoslavian countries proved to be a little more difficult than I expected. I invested a lot of research into the relations of all of these countries and tried to present them without taking sides with disputes. Albania's characterization is based upon his actual foreign relations and Himaruya's characterization of him.<p>

I'm glad to see the enthusiasm towards this story. I hope I don't disappoint anyone!


	3. Ireland, Sweden, Estonia, Greece

Chapter 3

Germany wanted to throw something. Particularly at his accursed brother, but alas…

"_Scheiße!_" he hollered, kicking the side of the couch in his green room. He heard a squeak from inside the sofa, and something scurried out from underneath it and across the floor. Germany yelped in alarm, and jumped onto the arm of the couch.

Austria and Hungary came into the room, though Austria nearly tripped over the animal…thing that ran out the door. "W-What was _that_?" he sputtered.

"It looked like a death's-head hawkmoth," Hungary said, shivering slightly. "B-But those are signs of war…"

"But if it was a hawk-moth, wouldn't it fly?" Germany asked, slowly getting off the couch. "Where the _hell_ are all these things coming from? That unicorn we saw earlier, and now a _hawkmoth_? What's next, an _alphyn_?"

"Someone must be summoning them," Austria said, taking off his glasses to clean them. "There are many spell-casters here, but I'm going to lean more towards Norway."

"Why would _he_ summon them?" Hungary asked.

Austria shrugged. "He was quite upset at how his semi-final turned out, right? He had that floating green troll follow Germany around for a couple of days. He seems like the only one with a _reason _to summon these things."

"_Gott_!" Germany fumed. "Why can't _anything _run smoothly? I've got five countries pissed off at me, and ESC is _completely_ indifferent! What's more, Aniki…" he kicked the couch again for good measure. "_Der Scheißkerl_!"

"So…it wasn't Prussia?" Austria asked slowly.

"I don't know!" Germany snapped. "_Whoever_ it was, they bolted the minute I dove into the crowd!"

"_Bolted_?" Hungary exclaimed. It was hard to miss the disappointment in her voice. "How could Prussia have fled in the middle of a mosh pit?"

"I don't know…" Germany scrubbed a hand over his face and collapsed onto the couch. "At this rate, I'll be forced to perform alone…oh, the humiliation…"

"I still think you're better off without him with you," Austria said. He glanced at Hungary. "Say, where did Poland go? I thought he was with us."

Hungary smiled and shrugged. "When he realized he'd left Lithuania alone he took off. I think they may have gone into the audience." Her smile faded slightly though. "_I'd_ rather not go into the audience yet. If I risk seeing Prussia…"

"Maybe _I _ought to go into the audience," Germany fumed. "I wouldn't mind the risk of seeing that bastard!"

"Oh! And you can also sit with Italy!" Hungary cried, lighting up once more.

Germany flushed, and ducked his head, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "I…ah…"

"I'm getting some tea," Austria said, heading for the tea and coffee station set up for them.

* * *

><p>"Is my hair sticking up?"<p>

Ireland smiled down at her little brother. "Of course, Northern Ireland. You look just like Jedward! Of course, they're blonde and your hair is ginger…"

"Everyone else went to the audience." Scotland approached Ireland and Northern Ireland. His own hair was only a few shades darker than England's but his eyes were also green. "We haven't heard back about a fourth member, though…"

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you guys like this. Well, _you_ two rather." Ireland scoffed. "I could give a rat's arse if our _dear brother_ is hurt."

"I notice your hair isn't standing up," Wales pointed out. His hair was coal black, a noticeable difference from his siblings, and his eyes were dark blue. But he had matching eyebrows. "Were you going to do that as well?"

"Hell no," Ireland said sharply. She motioned to Northern Ireland. "This little lad chose the song, but _I'm_ sticking to my own style!"

"Why are you upset?" Northern Ireland asked her. "We're about to go onstage. Is it because you gave Denmark a perfect score again?"

Ireland snapped her teeth slightly before she forced a smile at him. "I am _relieved_, **_a leanbh na páirte_****, **that the score didn't go to England!"

"Gee, thanks," Scotland said sarcastically. "Don't forget _we're_ performing with him later!"

"Even if he can't find a fourth member," Wales said blandly.

"Well…" Ireland smiled a little more sincerely. "We'll see how all of us do tonight, hmm?"

* * *

><p>"Wow, <em>Ireland<em> is next!" America cried out, reading from the program. "And Sweden goes right after her!"

"Stupid thief," England muttered to himself.

"Way to call the kettle black!"

England stiffened and jumped out of his seat. "WHAT?" he spun around and saw all of his former territories calmly taking seats in the rows behind them. "How dare you all show your faces here?"

"We're _invited_," Australia taunted.

"…It should be another interesting show," India said behind him, calmly tucking into his seat.

"Hey Wy!" Sealand cried out, turning in his seat to wave.

"_WY_?" Seborga snapped. He twisted around and saw the girl sitting between Australia and New Zealand. "Heeeeey, Wy!" he jumped out of his seat and over to her.

"_Idiota_," Romano muttered.

"Hey!" Sealand snapped. "That's so _uncouth_ of you!" Sealand tried to jump over his seat as well, but Finland grabbed his arm. "Come on, _I_ saved the world! I should get the girl!"

"Please Sealand, that was all a dream," Finland scolded, pulling the boy back into his seat.

"Where's Poland and Toris?" Latvia asked worriedly, looking over his shoulder.

"M-Maybe," Canada said softly. "Maybe they're waiting backstage with Estonia?"

Latvia's face turned white and he looked at Canada with horror. "B-But what will happen to ME if Russia comes out here?"

"I don't think he will. A-And, he certainly won't take my seat." Canada snuggled Mr. Kumajirou to himself. "Isn't that right, Mr. Kumamachi?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada!"

"Ah," Finland said, looking up. "Look, Denmark's coming over here!"

Norway stiffened, and bit his bottom lip as the hyperactive Nordic came running over to them. "_Hej_, everyone!"

"These seats are taken," Norway cut in, quickly linking arms with Sealand and Faroe, who sat on either side of him.

Denmark only laughed though. "That's okay!" he fell into the open seat beside Finland. "What's up?"

"Uh, I-I was saving that—" Finland began.

"Sweden can just _deal with it_, right Åland?" Denmark asked the tiny country on the other side of Finland.

"_Va_?" Åland asked obliviously.

"Don't look now," Norway cut in. "But your _ex-wife_ is taking the stage."

"EH?" Denmark stiffened and looked towards the stage, where they could see Ireland taking position.

"But if you really think about it," Finland interjected. "She's more _your_ ex-wife than anything, Norway."

"Actually, I think we both and _Sweden_ had claim over her!" Denmark said in a strained voice, laughing forcefully.

Loud music emulated from the stage, and the lights came up, revealing Ireland standing there alone in some eighties movies sci-fi outfit. _"You say you're on it, but you just don't know-OH! You're spending money like you're on death row-OH! You must be mis-educated! By all the guys that you dated! You think I'll take the bait! But-I-don't-think-so!"_

As she sang, Ireland swooped down towards the floor of the stage and pulled Northern Ireland to his feet. In the audience, England lurched and covered his mouth.

"Hey England!" South Africa laughed, leaning over the seat. "Wasn't this the _exact moment_ in her semi-final performance that you realized she took Northern Ireland for HER ACT and he couldn't be part of YOURS?"

The other countries roared with laughter. America couldn't help but join in. "SHUT IT!" England shouted.

"_She's got her lipstick on! Here I come—DA DA DUM!"_ Northern Ireland was totally into the performance, while Ireland looked a little stiff._ "She's got her lipstick on! Hit and run—DA DA DUM! Check my collar! Collar! HEY! HEY HEY! Check my collar! Collar! HEY! HEY HEY!"_

"What an annoying song!" England fumed.

"I like it!" America said, clapping in time with the music.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"…Lipstick…lipstick," Italy sang partially along.

"_Oh-OH! Am I headed for a car crash? Oh-OH! Is this about to be my next? She takes the—oh-OH! I'm about to fall in! Head first! Sisters! Let me tell you how it works—HEY!"_

"Whoo, I like this!" Sealand cheered, hopping up and down in his seat.

Denmark grumbled something under his breath. Inwardly, Norway was inwardly pleased to see him in less than a good mood.

Ireland and Northern Ireland continued with the song. Ireland started to get some mild enthusiasm for it. _"She's got her lipstick on! Here I come—DA DA DUM! She's got her lipstick on! Hit and run—DA DA DUM! Check my collar! Collar! HEY! HEY HEY! Check my collar! Collar! HEY! HEY HEY!"_

"I'm going to call Germany!" Italy cheered, pulling out his cell phone.

Romano yanked the cell phone out of his hands. "_Why_ call him in the middle of somebody's performance?"

"Why not?" England asked.

"Would you even be able to hear him?" Latvia asked, still looking over his shoulder.

"_HO!"_Ireland's performance finished off with a loud explosion, followed by many cheers. Northern Ireland was hopping up and down, still full of energy, while Ireland looked a little more winded as they hurried off the stage.

Scores went out quickly.

"We didn't score her," Romano reported, tossing the phone back to Italy.

"T-That's too bad." But Italy immediately began texting Germany.

"I gave her seven points," Latvia read from his phone.

Spain laughed. "Wow, so did I!"

"And me!" Belgium cheered.

"Six points," Portugal read neutrally.

"Five," Netherlands read.

"Nothing," Turkey read. He looked over his shoulder. "Japan still isn't here…"

"AH!" England screamed, jumping to his feet. "I gave her a PERFECT SCORE? That's not possible! She _stole_ my territory!"

"I guess you like annoying songs!" America laughed.

"T-Ten points," Finland read.

"Nothing," Norway said flatly.

Denmark was gaping at his phone, his face pale. "A-Ah…I gave her twelve points!" he laughed feebly. "I can't believe I gave _her_ my perfect score! But it means nothing, really Norway!" he forced a smile at Norway.

"I don't care," Norway responded coldly.

Denmark sighed in relief. "I'm relieved to hear that."

"I…don't think that's what he meant," Greenland said.

England grumbled to himself, and checked his watch. "Ireland just went…and where is _he_? I sent out the summon a _while_ ago!"

"He who?" America asked. "Who or what did you summon this time? Was it one of your _imaginary friends_?"

"They're NOT imag—"

"_Ni hao_!"

England whipped around in his seat, and happiness and relief flooded his face. "_China_!" he quickly moved passed the other countries to get to the aisle, where China was calmly walking down it. Someone fell into step behind him. China was snuggling a panda plush toy to his chest and he was dressed in a bright red changshan with black pants. "You came! You _really came_!"

"Of course I did, aru," China said good-naturedly. "This was an opportunity too good to pass up!"

England flinched, but forced out a laugh. "Thank you for helping me. Is Hong Kong with you?" he looked at the person standing behind China, and his whole body froze.

India looked up disinterestedly when he saw China approach. But…then he saw the person following China. "_PRATĪKSĀ_!" he shouted suddenly, jumping to his feet.

"Hmm?" America looked over his shoulder at India's shout. He saw China standing in the aisle, and tensed. "Oh, h-hi China!" he quickly stood up and laughed. "Can I get you anything, like a drink or popcorn?"

"I'm not calling you on your debt to me, America," China interrupted cheerfully. "So you can relax, aru. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Ah…" It was that America saw who was standing behind China, and rage snapped through his body. "**PAKISTAN!**"

The dark-skinned country turned even darker eyes towards America as he brushed his black hair out of his face. "_Āssālam 'alaykum_, America."

America screamed in rage and lunged over the rows and tackled Pakistan, slamming him into the opposite row and nearly on top of the other people sitting there. "How _dare you_!" he shouted, wringing Pakistan by his collar. "How dare you show your face to me, your traitorous bastard!"

"America!" England shouted, rushing forward.

"C-Can you please stop jumping to conclusions?" Pakistan asked, grabbing America by his wrists.

"_Jumping to conclusions_? You had him for _six years_ and you didn't say a **FUCKING WORD TO ME**!"

"I didn't know!" Pakistan insisted. "I honestly didn't know, or I would've handed him over! Just like I hand over _any_ terrorist in my borders!"

"Oh really? You didn't know? Then who the FUCK was tipping him off _every time_ I got close to him?"

America's rage was putting a damper on the positive environment rapidly, though some of the countries could understand his anger.

A new hand closed around America's, and a voice met him at his ear. "_Kindly_ take your hands off my guest, America."

"_Your guest_?" America glared at China, who was glaring back at him. After a moment he scoffed and released Pakistan. "_Should_ I be surprised you would defend him over _everything_, China?"

China smiled once more. "Pakistan is one of my dearest friends, aru, and I _won't_ tolerate anyone bullying him. I would think _you_ would understand this, America, to want to protect your dearest friends from _bullies_."

* * *

><p>"<strong>The relations of China and Pakistan, while new in comparison to other country's relations as having started in 1951, have evolved into a close and powerful relationship. China was the first country to recognize Pakistan's independence from his brother India in 1947, and Pakistan was instrumental in getting China elected to the United Nations, as well as being the first country to openly speak out against the 'One-China' policy. Their close ties have proven to have positive impact on China's foreign relations, as Pakistan served as the bridge for China to first communicate with other Muslim countries, and Pakistan also reopened relations between China and America in 1970 after having no relations after the Korean War. Today both have a free-trade agreement, host joint military projects, and like Hungary and Poland they also celebrate a joint friendship day on May 21<strong>**st****."**

* * *

><p>"Wait a minute," England cut in. "<em>Why<em> did you bring Pakistan? As far as I knew, it was just Hong Kong and you coming here!"

"Pakistan is my guest," China repeated defensively. "You didn't say anything about a _limit_ on how many people I could bring, aru. And he got me this cute panda for our upcoming friendship day."

"Limit…wait!" England shouted. "You brought _more_?"

"Well…Taiwan's getting a drink—"

"Argh!" England scrubbed at his hair. "And _I_ have to pay for all of you!" He grabbed China by his shirt. "_Where's Hong Kong_?"

"Oh, he went backstage, aru. We thought you were back there, so—"

"Thank you." England awkwardly cupped his face and took off running. China stared after him for a moment before he smiled at Pakistan. "Shall we sit?"

"…Sure," Pakistan said, brushing himself off. He looked at America, who was glaring at him. "Ah—"

"While we're here," America cut in, jabbing a finger at him. "I don't want you to speak to me or _look_ at me. Got it?"

"O-Oka—"

"I said don't talk to me!" America stomped back to his seat and slammed his body into his.

"Here's an opening, aru!" China cheered, grabbing Pakistan by the hand and pulling him towards an empty couple of seats. They were close to India, who was staring at the two countries stone-faced. Pakistan caught his look and the two estranged brothers gave each other cold looks for a long moment before Pakistan took his seat beside China. India grumbled, and rubbed at his face. "Unbelievable…"

"I'm surprised you agreed to this," Australia said to China. "How'd England convince you to lend him Hong Kong?"

China laughed, and hid his smile behind his panda plush. "He made me an offer I _couldn't_ refuse."

Norway lurched in his seat.

* * *

><p>"Twelve points," Sweden read his score for Ireland, before shoving his phone into his pocket.<p>

Iceland quickly checked his phone. "I gave her four. But anyways…good luck," he offered awkwardly.

"_Takk_," Sweden said, pulling down on his shirt. His boss had wanted him to dress like Eric Saade, but there was no denying the height difference between them. Eric's jacket certainly didn't _fit_ him by any means. So he was dressed in tight black slacks and a tight black button-down shirt that could barely be buttoned. Not to mention it barely covered his mid-drift. "I will…give it my best."

"That's goo—"

"_Berwald_!"

Both countries flinched as Sweden's boss ran over to him. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "You can't wear _that_!"

Sweden slowly looked down at himself before he looked at his boss coldly. "Wear what?"

"Those!" his boss reached up and pulled the glasses off Sweden's face. "Your glasses hide you! _Now_ you look presentable!"

"_Now_ I can't see," Sweden said blandly. "But…that won't be a problem."

"Good! Now get out there and make us proud!"

"…All right." Sweden gave a nod to Iceland before heading towards the stage. _And I will make my family proud._

Iceland's pocket hummed once more. He pulled out his cell phone to check his messages.

**Oji-san (mobile)**

"_I haven't heard from you in a while, Bocchan. Am I bothering you?"_

Iceland sighed, and quickly sent a response. _"No, you're not bothering me. I'd tell you if you were."_

Before he could tuck his phone away, he received a response back. Mindful that Sweden was about to perform, he quickly checked his phone.

"_Ah, I see. Then, is it all right if I ask why you didn't answer my question? Would it bother you if your family knew of me?"_

Iceland swallowed thickly, and his heart thudded irregularly. He texted back with shaking fingers. _"But they __**do**__ know you. That's the whole thing of it, really."_

He sent his response, and hurried after Sweden. As he stopped near the curtain, on impulse he sent out another message.

"_But…no. I don't think it would bother me."_

* * *

><p>"Su-san's about to take the stage!" Finland exclaimed. Greenland pulled out his cell phone and began texting his votes.<p>

"_Papa_!" Åland cheered. She pulled out a small flag of Sweden and began waving it.

"Papa-Sweden's song _is_ pretty awesome," Sealand said. He smiled proudly. "I helped him practice!"

"Well, you certainly loved singing the song!" Finland laughed good-naturedly.

Denmark scoffed. "His song _sucks_ compared to mine!"

"But he placed first in his semi-final round," Norway pointed out. "This was also _your_ semi-final round."

Denmark laughed and shrugged. "Ah, well!"

Romano checked his watch. "We need to get backstage soon."

"But Nii-san, we don't go onstage for awhile!" Italy complained.

"If you weren't so retarded, then we wouldn't need to keep practicing the fucking song!" Romano snapped. "You can _never_ remember when you're supposed to come in!"

"That's not true! I…" Italy trailed off and looked towards the ceiling. "Wait, when do I come in?"

"Ugh!"

"Romanooooooo," Spain cooed, leaning over the seat. "Does this mean _you_ start the song?"

A stomping beat from the stage stalled whatever Romano was going to say. Cheers rose up from the audience as a handful of dancers stomped to the beat onstage. It was a very popular song, after all.

Abruptly, lights shined upon Sweden, and women shrieked in the audience at the tall Nordic. _"Stop! Don't say that it's im-poss-ible! 'Cause I know…it's poss-ible. Though I know—you never look my way! I can say…you will one day!"_ his singing was a bit deadpan, and outside of some stiff gestures with his left hand he stood still onstage. _"I can say…you will! One! Day!_

"_I will be popular! I will be popular! I'm gonna get! There! Popular! My body wants you girl! My body wants you girl! I'll get you when! I'm! Popular!"_

Women screamed at the suggestive lyrics, seeming to not notice the dark, uncomfortable look on Sweden's frozen face. _"I'll put my hands up in the lights! You'll see me dancing for my life!"_

"_I WILL BE POPULAR! I WILL BE POPULAR!"_ Sealand bellowed out from the audience, jumping up and down. _"I'M GONNA GET! THERE! POPULAR!"_

"Wow, who wrote this song?" America complained, rubbing at his ear.

"I think the beat is goo—" Pakistan began.

"I SAID DON'T TALK TO ME!"

Sweden looked down, and saw the hem of his shirt riding up his toned stomach. He yanked it back down. _"Spread the news! I'm gonna take the fight! For the spotlight! Day and night!" _His backup dancers danced smoothly behind him, but he still stood stiff. _"I can't take this to the number one!"_

"_Be someone before you're gone!"_ Sealand shouted.

Finland couldn't help but laugh. "With this much energy, maybe you should've been one of Su-san's dancers!"

"Yeah, I know!" Sealand said. "But Papa-Sweden said no!"

"_I will be popular! I will be popular!"_Sweden pulled his shirt down awkwardly again. _"I'm gonna get! There! Popular! My body wants you, girl!"_

"Oh, I want his hands all over ME!" a random woman screamed.

"Ugh!" Denmark yelled in disgust. "Who in their right mind would want to sleep with HIM?"

"Denmark, that's not a nice thing to say!" Finland snapped.

"Ah!" Denmark grinned wickedly at him. "I'm sorry, Finland, I didn't mean to insult you!"

Finland realized what he said, and turned bright red.

Sweden stoically stormed into the "glass box" onstage for the finale of the song, where the glass shattered around him dramatically. _"I will be popular!"_ Sweden smashed his fist into the glass in front of him. _"I will be popular!" _he turned to his left and punched the glass there._ "I will be popular!"_ he then punched the remaining glass around him. _"I'm gonna get! THERE!"_

"…Is he supposed to really hit the glass?" Greenland asked.

"…_Ei_," Finland said slowly. "I-Is he upset?"

"That was _awesome_!" Sealand cheered.

Sweden the rest of the chorus, but was finally fed up with his shirt riding up over his abdomen. He yanked it down as hard as he could, but unfortunately ended up ripping the shirt clean in half, partially showing of his toned body. Finland slapped a hand over his mouth to hide his blush, and more women screamed as Sweden calmly shrugged it off and continued. _"—I'll put my hands up in the lights!"_

"Stupid _stodder_ trying to earn brownie points!" Denmark fumed. A woman screamed nearby, adding to his irritation. "He's GAY, so he's not going to sleep with you!" he shouted at the random woman.

"A little _worried_, Denmark?" Greenland asked snidely, still openly texting his votes. "He's getting more cheers than _you_ did!"

Norway snorted very slightly.

The song ended shortly afterwards, and the cheers were deafening. Sweden bowed stiffly and stormed off the stage.

"L-Let me see…" Finland stammered, yanking out his buzzing cell phone with trembling hands. He cried out when he saw the score. "I-I only gave Su-san _six points_?"

Denmark barked out a laugh as he checked his phone. Of course, the laughter quickly died. "TEN POINTS?"

Greenland snickered.

"I…also gave him ten points," Norway said.

"I gave him four!" Turkey read out loud. He seemed to be in a more cheerful mood.

"Six!" San Marino cheered.

"Nothing," Romano said neutrally. "We're still conserving points."

"…Ten," Netherlands read.

"Five points!" Spain read.

"Four," Belgium said.

"Z-Zero," Latvia stammered. He scoffed in frustration. "_Mans Dievs_, where are they? Eduard performs next!"

"Seven points," Iceland said, showing Sweden his phone. "I was surprised you nearly ripped your shirt off."

Sweden shrugged, not caring the shirt hung off him in tatters. "It…irritated me."

"Berwald!" Sweden's boss threw his arms around the tall nation. "That was _amazing_! We're going to get _really_ high marks for it!" he handed Sweden back his glasses.

"I'm going to go sit with...the others." Sweden stormed off.

Iceland stared after him and sighed. "And _I'm _alone. Great..."

* * *

><p>"I just gave Sweden my perfect score," Estonia read from his phone. He looked at Lithuania and Poland. Poland was trying to snuggle up to him on the couch, but Lithuania was red-faced and trying to ignore him. "Really, you guys. I'm not scared of Russia, and I doubt he'll hurt me. You can go sit in the audience. Raivis must be ready to have a heart attack."<p>

"A-Are you sure?" Lithuania stammered. "Russia is very unpredictable—"

Estonia sighed. "He could probably kick my ass, but I'm a member of the European Union too. I doubt they'd stand for Russia invading me or hurting me."

"I see…"

"Well, then let's go!" Poland announced, pulling Lithuania to his feet. "Best of luck, Estonia!"

"_Aitäh_," Estonia said, watching Poland drag Lithuania from the room. He sighed again and brushed his suit out. "Maybe I ought to update my Twitter before going onstage…"

* * *

><p>"You have no idea how HAPPY this makes me!" England cried. "My performance has been saved!"<p>

"You're welcome," Hong Kong said coldly, pushing England away. "Just stop hugging me."

"We don't have a lot of dance moves tonight," Scotland told Hong Kong. "Just follow us in the beat and you'll be fine."

"China put the song on your iPod, right?" Wales asked. "How do the lyrics fit for you?"

Hong Kong shrugged. "I was just shaken out of bed by China and told I'm joining a boy band with England in Düsseldorf. I still haven't taken this all in yet."

"We're sorry," Scotland said. "But when England decides he wants to do something he'll do it, and the hell with everyone else."

"I'm standing RIGHT HERE, you know!" England snapped. "And I don't hear you shifting any blame onto Ireland for stealing Northern Ireland for _her_ performance!"

Hong Kong looked at England coldly. "Why did you even call China about this? Or go to this much trouble trying to get a replacement? I'm pretty sure the Falklands would've _loved_ to have done this."

England stiffened, and Wales gave him a sideways glance. "…He's got a point. Why didn't you call Falklands? He'd jumped through hoops to assist you."

"Shut it!" England snapped, but his stomach twisted in knots. _Bloody hell…WHY didn't I think of that and spare myself the humiliation I'll be suffering later?_

* * *

><p>"<strong>The Falklands is an archipelago of 3,000 people located 290 miles off the coast of Argentina. The islands are a territory of England, which resides over 8,000 miles away. England annexed him from Argentina in 1833, which didn't please Argentina one iota. In 1982, Argentina invaded Falklands and reclaimed him, believing that England wouldn't care about such a small island so far away. Falklands wasn't happy with this at all, because he was much happier being a territory of England. To the surprise of many, England <strong>_**did**_** respond, sending a large portion of his Navy to fight Argentina for the island. This war lasted for two months and the casualties were minimal, but England was able to reclaim Falklands and forced Argentina to retreat. To this day though, both are in dispute over ownership of the Falklands, with Argentina adopting a resolution in his constitution to reclaim Falklands and England refusing to negotiate on him."**

* * *

><p>"But it doesn't really matter," Hong Kong said. "I'm here, so I might as well practice."<p>

"Just so long as we don't get disqualified," Scotland muttered.

Russia was walking along, and saw the four gathered. He froze in his tracks, and ducked behind a corner. He peered around the side, his eyes fixed upon Hong Kong, who was completely oblivious to his stare.

"Hong Kong is here," Russia said to himself. A smile spread across his face. "That must mean _China_ is here too…" A dark aura surrounded him and he began laughing. "Kolkolkol…"

* * *

><p>"Hello!" Poland called out as Lithuania and he returned to their seats.<p>

"Poland! Toris!" Latvia cried out. "You came back!"

"O-Of course we did," Lithuania stammered.

"_Taa_," Poland said. He was pulling someone behind him. "And look who we found backstage!"

"Japan!" America cheered, standing up. China stiffened in his seat. "Where the hell have you been?"

"_G-Gomen nasai_," Japan stammered. His face was flushed, and his eyes a little glazed. "I-I was with Greece-san…and I drank too much ouzo."

Turkey made a face. "_Why_ would you drink ouzo, Japan? That crap tastes like piss!"

"…And you would know how piss tastes _how_?" Netherland asked slowly.

"I-It was good," Japan stammered, sliding through the row back to his seat beside America. "I just had too mu…"

He trailed off when he recognized China's presence. The two countries, and former siblings, silently stared each other down. It was Japan who first spoke. "_Ko…Kobanwa_, China."

"_Wǎnshàng hǎo_," China responded. The tension was thick in the air.

"W-Well," Turkey stammered. "Come over and sit down! There's no need for bad blood now, is there?"

"He's right," Pakistan said quietly, though he didn't miss the look India gave him.

China held Japan's stare for a moment before he shrugged. "All right."

Japan sighed quietly, and finished moving down the aisle to his seat.

"…Maybe all of us sitting together wasn't such a good idea, Mr. Kumakichi," Canada murmured against his bear's head.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada!"

Cheerful music floated up from the stage. It helped considerably to ease the tension in the countries in the audience. "Go Eduard!" Latvia cheered, happy once more.

On the stage, Estonia took his place amidst the large models of buildings and took a deep breath to calm himself. _"Daylight is fading away…night silhouettes in the sky." _He managed a smile. _"LED lights are flashing on towers…it's Manhattan's magical time. Ballerinas dancing the Swan Lake…On a river made of diamonds and pearls…"_

"Hey!" America cheered. "He's singing about _me_!"

"Rather, your _city_," Poland corrected.

"_Because to-night is SHOW-TIME!"_ Estonia sang out, relaxing a little to move with the beat. _"In the middle of the STREET-LIGHT! All we celebrate are good-times! Because to-night, it is SHOW-TIME!_

"_Come and walk with me—One! Two! Seven! Three! Down to Rockefeller street! Life is marchin' on! Do you feel that?"_

"Wow, Eduard's really getting into it!" Lithuania laughed, clapping his hands in time with the beat. "Then again…he was always the more outspoken of us…"

"He, like, _totally_ learned it from me!" Poland pointed out.

The song wound down again. _"Oldschool Hollywood stars…Party Cinderellas are here. They move like computer game heroes…"_

"See?" America demanded. "He _is_ singing about me!" he put his fingers into his mouth and whistled loudly. "GO ESTONIA! KICK EVERYONE'S ASS!"

Japan groaned, and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"You only cared when you realized you were part of the subject for his song!" Romano barked. He cursed violently and stood up. "This is so _fucking annoying_, and we have to perform soon!" he grabbed Italy by the wrist. "Come on, we're leaving!"

"Nii-san, we can't leave during his performance!" Italy protested, as Romano yanked him out of his seat.

"Oh really? _Watch me_!"

"Good luck!" San Marino cheered obliviously.

Seborga grumbled to himself.

"_Mi pequeño tomate_!" Spain cooed, standing up. "I shall follow you and—"

"Shut up and don't follow me!"

Romano dragged Italy up the aisle, creating quite a ruckus. Estonia tried to ignore it as best as he could. _"One! Two! Seven! Three! Down to Rockefeller street! Everything is more than surreal!"_

Latvia laughed, and joined in with the singing. "Eduard is doing such a good job! Ah." He smiled at Lithuania. "_You_ did a good job too."

"Thank you, Raivis," Lithuania said sincerely. "Next year, let us all try harder so that all three of us Baltics are in the finals!"

Latvia nodded. "Absolutely!"

Poland scoffed. "You would've done better, Liet, if you hadn't imagined _**Belarus**_ during your song!"

Lithuania flushed once more, and stammered at Poland. "Ah…Feliks…" he was far too embarrassed though to admit what had _really_ caused him to falter onstage.

Estonia finished, and received a generous applause. "WHOO!" America cheered.

Estonia bowed, and turned to walk offstage. What he saw though made him stop in his tracks.

_Russia_ was standing beside the curtain. He was smiling, but there was no mistaking the dark aura surrounding him.

Estonia sighed, and tossed his microphone to one of his backup singers. "_Hea_ _töö_." Turning on his heel, he walked to the edge of the stage and jumped off.

"E-E-Eduard!" Latvia cried out, even as he felt his phone buzz. He checked the score he gave Estonia. "Four points?"

"I gave him seven," Lithuania read. "But why did he jump off the stage like that?"

Russia watched this from behind the curtain. "…What a strange person."

"I gave him seven points as well," Finland said, smiling over his old friend.

"Two," Denmark said.

"…Me too," Norway said reluctantly.

"Hey, we're two for two!" Denmark cheered. "Great minds think alike, after all!"

"Two points," Belgium said, and that was it for the rest of them.

* * *

><p>"Doitsu—UGH!"<p>

Germany could've sworn he'd heard Italy. He left his green room and saw the Italian brothers struggling in the hallway. He sighed, and pressed a hand to his forehead. _They're performing soon…and Aniki still isn't here…_

* * *

><p>France chuckled as he stood up. "I must be going. I go after Russia, after all, and <em>he<em> goes after Greece."

"_Mucha suerte_!" Spain cheered on his friend. "Oh, and if you see Romano backstage, tell him I also said good luck!"

An evil glint entered France's eye. "_Ah…_ _Bien sûr, mon ami_."

Spain, however, recognized that tone of voice and quickly jumped to his feet. "I changed my mind," he said quickly. "Please don't go near Romano."

France laughed. "But you already asked—"

"_Don't go near him_," Spain said coldly. "Or I'll make you sorry, Francis. Friend or not."

France wasn't use to seeing _this_ side of Spain, and he knew better than to test him. "…Understood," he said slowly. After a moment, Spain slowly sat back down.

"_Boa sorte_," Portugal added blandly.

"_Merci_." France blew him a kiss before swooping down and kissing a startled Canada on the cheek. "Cheer for me, _oui_ Mattie!"

"U-U-Um, uh…" Canada rubbed a hand over his cheek. "Okay."

"_Merci. Bonsoir_!" France laughed heartily as he started up the aisle. He saw someone coming down the aisle and stopped briefly. It was Sweden, though he was dressed more conservatively now. "You did a good job tonight, Sweden. Although I must say that the _other look_ suited you much better."

Sweden looked down at himself before he regarded France coldly. "…_Takk_."

They parted ways, and Sweden walked further down to sit with his Nordic brethren. He stilled when he saw that Denmark was sitting right beside Finland. "A-Ah!" Finland cried out. "Su-san!"

"_Papa gjorde ett bra jobb_!" Åland cheered.

"_Takk, _Åland," Sweden said. He glared at Denmark.

Denmark smiled back at him. "What? There were any seats left!"

"What about this one?" Sweden jabbed his finger on the empty aisle seat beside Denmark's seat.

Denmark stuck his tongue out at him. "Well, it looks like you have a seat now!"

"Denmark—" Finland began.

"Just switch spots," Norway cut in. "Finland was saving the seat anyways."

Denmark was silent for a long moment. With a grumble he moved over and allowed Sweden to sit down.

"How's Iceland doing?" Norway asked him.

Sweden shrugged. "He seems nervous, but he's on his cell phone a lot."

"Texting _Oji-san_," Faroe teased.

"You know, I read a lot of manga," Sealand said. "And I think _Oji-san_ is Japanese for 'old man' or 'uncle'. Does Iceland have an uncle?"

"…_Nei_," Norway said slowly, but his fingers curled into his own arms.

* * *

><p>"I think…" Cyprus said slowly. "We drank too much ouzo."<p>

"R-Really?" Albania stammered, his cheeks flushed. "Because I feel f-f-f-fine!"

Greece rubbed his forehead. "I gave Japan too much…" he was angry with himself for it, even as he'd only had one glass himself. It was the only reason he continued to drag Albania and Cyprus with him, who were each very drunk.

"Don't let it bother you," Cyprus said. "Japan has—what, sake? Ouzo won't hurt him too much!"

"Don't be feeling guilty now!" Albania laughed, pinching one of Greece's cheeks. "Just shake it off, _shoku im_! You have to be onstage right now!"

Greece grumbled, but didn't have time for a response. A foot shot out in front of his, causing him to trip and bring Cyprus and Albania down hard with him. "_Skatá_!" he hollered as the other countries fell hard on top of him.

The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus stood over them, shrieking with laughter. "You guys fell like dominos! FAT DOMINOS!"

"_Bástardos_!" Cyprus screamed. Using Greece as his launching pad, he threw himself in the air and took off after Northern Cyprus.

"Ah!" a stagehand found Greece still lying face down on the floor, with Albania sitting up and rubbing his own arm. "Here you are, Greece! Are you asleep? We need you onstage right now!"

"…Ow…"

* * *

><p>Turkey opened his phone, and laughed loudly. "Northern Cyprus saw that brat backstage! And he's a <em>mess<em>!"

"H-He didn't drink very much ouzo, though," Japan offered defensively.

"Northern Cyprus SUCKS!" Sealand yelled over his shoulder.

"Sealand!" Finland reprimanded him.

"Don't talk about him like that, you little _serseri_!" Turkey yelled back.

Sweden turned in his seat, and Turkey and him had a brief stare down before they both looked away at the same time.

"Let's see how he does this year," America said. "His song kicked so much ass last year!"

"Eduard, why did you jump off the stage?" Latvia asked Estonia. "Don't you want to shower?"

Estonia shrugged. "I saw an _unpleasant _person I didn't want to have contact with."

"…Unpleasant?" Lithuania asked warily.

"Here," Albania said, plopping a black kitten on top of Greece's head. "You did this last year, right? Continue the trend!"

"…Okay," Greece said slowly. The kitty matched his black outfit and all. "Well…no matter how I place, I will be higher than Turkey this year."

Albania laughed half-heartedly, as he considered both Turkey and Greece to be his friends. "Just kick Serbia's ass for me, okay? And I'm sure Japan will love the performance."

Greece shrugged and took his place onstage, his backup dancers ready. His ribs still hurt from his fall, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. He was just thankful the performance didn't ask a lot for _him_ to dance. He looked up and towards the section Japan said he would be sitting. He was pleased and relieved to see him sitting there; he'd been afraid Japan would leave after drinking so much.

But…_Turkey_ was sitting behind him!

Greece cursed, but forced himself to be calm. Turkey probably sat there on purpose to annoy him. He couldn't let him get to him like that.

"Oh, there he is!" Poland said, pointing to Greece onstage.

"…Stupid song," Turkey muttered.

The music started, and the dancer began dancing very elaborately. Greece stepped forward, kitten perched happily on his head.

"Hey, he's got a cat on his head again!" America pointed out.

"_I was born so betrayed. Who am I—what I'll be? What is mine in this life—Just the heaven and sea! No, I won't give them up! They're my fortune—my proof…"_

"I-Is he _rapping_?" America asked.

"…That's what it looks like," Netherlands said.

"And he SUCKS at it!" Turkey shouted.

"_Watch my dance—head up high—hands like wings and I'll fly!"_ Greece suddenly shifted vocal range. _"To kefali psila kai ta heria anoihta!_

"_Tin ehei i psihi mou ti fotia! Tous fovous olous kaiei monadhika…"_

"Now he's singing," America said. "I'm confused."

"You do this with a lot of your rap songs, right?" Japan asked. "Rapping for the main part of the song, and singing for the chorus."

"…Huh. You're right."

"_I have heard many words! But I still won't forget!"_ Greece switched back to rapping. _"The language of my body! The sound my heart makes!"_

A sudden thought entered Japan's mind, and he blushed deeply. He ducked his head so no one could see his embarrassment.

"_So I'm staying alive! And my losses won't let! My soul to surrender! The power of loss is my bet! Watch my dance—"_

"And he's _not_ dancing!" Turkey pointed out obnoxiously.

Greece heard his shout, and he narrowed his eyes. But he didn't lose his concentration as he switched back to singing. _"Tin ehei i psihi mou ti fotia! Tous fovous olous kaiei monoadhika! Ta vimata mou kavo os to theo! Ki an peso ego xana tha sikotho!"_

The dancers began to pick up the pace, and Greece managed to spin around, even with the kitten still on his head. He felt a sting of pain from his abdomen though, and nursed his ribs as he took up the song again. _"Tin ehei i psihi mou ti fotia!"_

Japan shivered slightly. "It's so strange…I feel a connection to the words, even though I don't speak Greek." He rubbed at his face self-consciously. "Maybe it's the ouzo talking…"

"Well, it _is_ an original song," America chimed in his two cents.

Greece finished with an amazing flare, and bowed. He smiled in the direction of the audience where the other countries were sitting, and Japan felt the heat rise on his cheeks.

"Hey, are you okay buddy?" America asked him, noting his dark red cheeks. "You aren't drunk, are you?"

"_I-Iie_," Japan insisted.

"HA!" Turkey laughed loudly. "I didn't score that this year!"

"…Neither did I," Poland said slowly.

"I gave him eight points!" San Marino cheered.

"Me too," Belgium said.

"I-It doesn't look like we scored him," Finland said, referring to his fellow Nordics.

"No points," Spain said, flipping his phone shut.

Turkey was beyond pleased to hear all of this. "That brat did _horribly_!"

"But this isn't all the scores," Luxembourg pointed out.

"Ten points!" Albania cheered, showing Greece his phone. "I gave you a high score, Greece!"

"…Thank you," Greece said reluctantly. He took the cat off his head to cuddle it.

"Greece!" Cyprus ran up to him. "I gave you a perfect score again!"

Greece smiled and nodded. "I know I can always count on you for that."

"Did you catch Northern Cyprus?" Albania asked, rubbing at his sore arm.

Cyprus shrugged. "A _hawkmoth_ landed on his face, so he's gone all catatonic."

* * *

><p>"…Do you get it <em>now<em>?" Romano snapped.

"Absolutely!" Italy asked. He raised his hand. "I just have one question!"

"What is it?"

"Ah…" he fidgeted slightly. "Where do I come in again?"

"**AHHHHHHHH!**" Romano screamed in frustration.

* * *

><p>Things are starting to heat up! Coming up next<em> Italy<em> takes the stage!

- A _death's-head hawkmoth_ isn't actually mythical creature, but a real insect. The origins of it though are shrouded in mythology. It's big and incredibly ugly, and it has a design on its back that resembles a skull and crossbones. It also makes a piercing noise that sounds like a wail of grief. For thousands of years throughout Europe they were thought to be extremely unlucky, and if you saw one on a full-moon that meant war or pestilence was coming to your area. In rare cases, if a hawkmoth got into your home and snuffed out a candle; that meant everyone in the house was going to die. You can find out more information about this interesting insect at both Wikipedia and the website 'Mythical Creatures Guide'.

- America and Pakistan generally have good relations, even if they have some disagreements about some things they have been able to count on each other in the past. When Osama bin Laden was killed in Abbottabad, Pakistan on May 2, 2011, this caused an enormous strain on these two countries' relations, especially since it's still not entirely clear as to whether or not the Pakistani government knew that bin Laden had been in the country. China however has come out in defense of Pakistan, and has warned America that if Pakistan is attacked China will take it as an attack against itself. 0.0;;;. One way a lot of people have described the close relations between China and Pakistan is that it parallels the relationship between America and Israel. So…yeah. Things are very tense.

- Ouzo, as you might have guessed, is a Greek alcoholic drink. Depending upon the brand, the alcohol content may be as low as 20% or as high as 50%. o.O

- The only translation for the Greek in Greece's song I could find was from a user named Junket at the website 4lyrics. So, here it is:

"_Tin ehei i psihi mou ti fotia_

_Tous fovous olous kaiei monoadhika! _

_Ta vimata mou kavo os to theo! _

_Ki an peso ego xana tha sikotho!"_

("My soul has the fire,

Only it van burn all fears,

I take steps towards God,

And if I fall, I will get up again.")


	4. Russia, France, Italy, Switzerland

Sorry for the delay. I found out a few days ago that Tokyopop, my favorite manga publisher, closed shop. It was…just a bit of a shock for me. Anyways, here's Chapter 4.

Chapter 4

"Is he okay?"

Bulgaria slowly reached down and poked the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus in the cheek. The boy didn't respond. He just laid there, his eyes swirly, his mouth hanging open, and his body twitching as his hands and feet remained curled in the air. "He looks like he's alive," Bulgaria said. He waved a cup of yogurt in front of his face. "_Eĭ khlape!_ Would you like some yogurt?"

Outside of a quiet whimper, Northern Cyprus didn't respond to him.

Bulgaria looked up at the three Romanian siblings standing over them. "What do you think caused this?"

"It looks like fear," Transylvania said neutrally. "A whole bunch of magical creatures are running amuck here. It doesn't really surprise me."

"Perhaps he encountered something unlucky," Moldova said, leaning his chin into his hand. "Would _that_ have caused this?"

"This seems almost…self-induced, though," Bulgaria said. "He'll probably snap out of it shortly."

Wallachia smiled, and slowly knelt down beside the catatonic child. "I know the…_surest_ way to cure him."

"Don't, _soră_," Moldova said warningly. "Turkey would declare war on us if you did it."

Wallachia pouted slightly. "But wouldn't you like another _brother_, Moldova?"

"Moldova's right," Transylvania cut in. "We should leave this child alone."

"…Okay." Wallachia reached over to tug on Northern Cyprus's stiff fingers. She laughed lightly. "It was worth a shot though…"

"_HÉ_!"

Moldova and Transylvania stiffened, but Wallachia smoothly rose to her feet as Hungary ran over to them. "Hello, Elizabeta."

"What have you done with this child?" Hungary hollered, glaring at the four of them. Behind her, Austria was quickly approaching and looking a little exhausted. "You've done something weird to him, haven't you?"

"We found him like this!" Bulgaria said defensively. "Honest-to-God, we didn't do this!"

"He's right," Transylvania said calmly. "For what reason would we have to attack a child?"

"And why should I believe _any_ of you?" Hungary almost took a step closer, but Austria quickly grabbed her arm to restrain her. "You menacing little…urgh!" Hungary clenched her fists at her sides.

"You're being a little hypocritical, aren't you Elizabeta?" Wallachia asked snidely. "For who of us has _ever_ been as menacing as YOU?"

"_Kurva_!" Hungary spat, almost lunging at her. Austria had to bodily restrain her and pull her back. "Not now," he hissed in her ear.

Wallachia calmly folded her arms over her chest. "Do you have something you want to say to me, _Hungary_?"

Hungary growled at her, but she relaxed in Austria's arms. When he let her go though, she surged forward and grabbed Northern Cyprus. "You just keep your _dirty_ hands off him!" she snapped, and stormed off with the catatonic child. Austria only sighed, and quickly followed her.

Bulgaria slowly blinked. "Why is she so angry?"

Wallachia shrugged. "Who knows?"

* * *

><p>"…I'm next," Russia said, smiling to himself. His scarf was still tucked around his shoulders, but he wore a navy blue suit underneath.<p>

"You look like you're in a better mood now," Armenia said, managing a small smile.

"Of course," Russia replied cheerfully. Or, as cheerfully as he could manage. "I have found out that _China_ is in the audience."

"That's good. You can dedicate your song to him if you want."

Russia's smile developed into something a little more sinister. "I think I might do that…Kolkolkol…"

"Big Brother."

Both countries stiffened as Belarus materialized beside Russia, giving him a very intense look. "Why do you avoid me, Big Brother? Did you not hear the song I sang for you?"

"O-Of course I did," Russia stammered, forcing a smile. "Well! I must be going to my performance now! Cheer for me, Armenia!"

"Of course," Armenia said. "And best of luck."

"Wait, Big Brother!" Belarus snapped. But Russia was hurrying off. She clenched her fists at her sides and began shaking. "To keep avoiding me, and yet keeping company with _others_! You are too cruel, Big Brother!"

"Ah…" Armenia was starting to feel a little uncomfortable and began to back up. "I-I'll just leave now."

"You!" Belarus suddenly grabbed him by his collar. "WHY DOES HE LIKE YOU MORE THAN ME?"

"U-Uh…" Armenia unfortunately had too many experiences dealing with very intimidating people, but this one really took the cake. "Er…I…"

Georgia was walking with Azerbaijan when he saw this. Azerbaijan stiffened violently, but Georgia cursed. "Belarus…what is she doing?"

He moved to walk over and stop her, but Azerbaijan grabbed his arm. "Leave them be," she said harshly. "_He_ probably said something inappropriate to her!"

"Armenia wouldn't do that," Georgia said defensively. "That's not in his nature."

"Not in his nature? He's a whining, crybaby thief! _Of course_ that's in his nature!"

Georgia narrowed his eyes at her. "Azerbaijan. You're my close friend, but I won't tolerate you bad-mouthing him like that. Don't forget he's my friend."

"But he's close to _Russia_!" Azerbaijan snapped back. "The country who's your **mortal enemy**! What kind of friend is THAT?"

"…That's his own business," Georgia said reluctantly. He raised his free arm. "Belarus!"

Belarus stilled, and turned her head to look at him. "_Tak_?"

"There's something I'd like to talk with you about," he said slowly. "Can you come with me, please?"

Belarus stared for a long moment before she nodded. "Okay." She let Armenia go and started towards them.

Azerbaijan snorted. "Here you are, bailing him out. And _he'll_ continue to be close to Russia, the ungrateful bastard…"

"She was displeased, though," Georgia said. "It may have been Russia who displeased her. If that's the case…" he smiled slightly. "Then he's _bound_ to do horribly this year."

As Russia was ready to take the stage, he felt his cell phone buzz. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket to check his messages.

**Ukraine (mobile)**

"_Best of luck!"_

Russia managed a small smile as he tucked his phone away. Even if his older sister was unable to approach him, it still made him feel good to have her encouragement.

* * *

><p>Sweden leaned forward and looked down the row. "Norway."<p>

"Hmm?" the other Nordic gave him a sideways glance. "What is it?"

"Can I talk to you briefly?"

"_Why_ do you want to talk to Norge?" Denmark snapped.

"Sure," Norway said, standing up.

"Why can you talk to HIM so easily and yet you ignore ME?" Denmark whined.

"Don't take too long," Finland said. "Russia's about to take the stage."

"We won't…go far," Sweden responded. Indeed, they only walked down the aisle and out of earshot from the other countries. "I'll keep this brief."

"Okay," Norway said, looking at him levelly. "What is it?"

"Are you certain about this wager you have made with Denmark?"

Norway blinked very slowly in surprise. But that was all he revealed on his face. "What about it?"

Sweden shrugged stiffly. "He seems…overly confident. And you know how he acts when he's victorious."

"…_Ja_." Norway shook his head. "But it's okay. I don't think he'll score in the top five."

"But he might," Sweden said. "You would be better off calling off the bet."

"I can't."

Sweden brow rose. "Why not?"

"I _can't_," Norway emphasized. "It's too late for me to back down."

Sweden was silent for a moment before he spoke. "It sounds like this wager has become more complicated than it ever should have been. Why would you agree to take it when you know Denmark as well as you do?"

"What does it matter to you?" Norway said flatly. "Besides, what part of 'he made an offer I couldn't refuse' do the rest of you don't understand?"

Sweden's brow relaxed, but he frowned. "And apparently…_you_ made him an offer _he_ couldn't refuse, either."

Norway gaped in horror at Sweden, unable to form words. The taller Nordic simply turned around and walked back to his seat. After a moment, Norway stormed after him.

Denmark smiled obliviously at them. "So, what did you guys talk about?"

"Shut up," Norway said rudely, quickly retaking his seat.

"And…Russia's up next," America read grimly from the program.

"He is, aru?" China asked warily.

Lithuania and Latvia stiffened, while Estonia rolled his eyes. Taiwan laughed a little and offered her soda to China, who shook his head. "We might as well enjoy the performance, ne?"

"…I hope so."

Taiwan smiled and leaned forward to address America. "Say America, when—"

"Japan," America interrupted. "Please advise Taiwan that by orders of my boss I do not have official diplomatic relations with her as per the 'One-China Policy'."

Japan blinked. "Uh…"

"But what about unoffic—" Pakistan began.

"DON'T TALK TO ME!" America snapped.

Poland looked less than pleased. "Here Russia comes with his, like, totally lame-ass song!"

"I-I wouldn't call his song lame, Feliks," Lithuania said feebly.

"Don't tell me you're, like totally defending him Liet! You, like, totally act like you have Stockholm Syndrome with those siblings!"

Sweden winced from his seat.

"I _do not_ have Stockholm Syndrome!" Lithuania said defensively. "But I'm not going to lie about Russia's singing abilities! And I'm _not_ going to deny how much I annoy Belarus with my feelings!"

"SHE BREAKS YOUR BONES AND OPENLY EXPRESSES HATE FOR YOU!" Poland hollered at the top of his lungs. "Stop defending her, Liet!"

"Why don't you _be quiet_, Feliks!" Lithuania snapped suddenly, startling his fellow Baltics and others around him. "Belarus doesn't bother me! YOU bother me! If you weren't constantly annoying me _all the time_, then I would've been able to concentrate during my song!"

Poland stilled, and he gave Lithuania a peculiar look. "Then…you were totally singing about _me_, Liet?"

Lithuania realized too late that he'd said too much, and his whole face turned red. "Ah…er…"

Thankfully for Lithuania, music rose from the stage before he was forced to respond. Russia began vocalizing and singing in his native language. Despite the soothing nature of his tone, the entirety of the audience shivered.

Armenia watched from backstage, one of the few actually cheering Russia on. "Good luck…"

"Choke! Choke!" Georgia shouted at his green room television.

Russia smiled, and his eyes were half-lidded as he leaned his mouth into the microphone he held. "Do you feel my heartbeat, Europe?"

All three Baltics flinched, and a few people whimpered in the audience.

Russia could see where the other countries were sitting, and he saw the Baltics looking quite scared. And maybe…yes, China _was_ there. And he looked uncomfortable. His smile widening, Russia wasted no time leading into his song. _"I choose my words like wise men do. And tonight…I'll __**GET YOU**__ right."_

His backup dancers began dancing with the beat, but Russia only swayed slightly. _"I rule my world like great men do. And I fight…I fight for MINE."_

"He seems pretty intense," Finland said, rubbing at his arms.

"_And you…look so good…on the floor. Put my mind in a DIRTY ZONE."_ Russia smiled again. _"If they watch…let them watch…Not losing you to-night!_

"_Oh-oh! I'm coming to __**GET YOU**__! Oh-oh! I'm running! I'm coming for __**YOU**__! Oh-oh! I'm gonna __**GET YOU**__!"_

"Why is he over-punctuating?" Poland asked. "It sounds, like, totally annoying!"

"…He's making a point," Lithuania said quietly.

"_NĒ_!" Latvia screamed. He clamped his hands to his face. "HE'S COMING TO GET US!"

"Shhh!" Estonia hissed.

Russia heard the shouting, and couldn't suppress his laugh. _"Kolkolkol…I lost mind somewhere between your face…and your perfect shape."_

"Between your face?" America echoed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"In between looking at the face and body," Japan clarified embarrassedly.

"_I found a pleasure watching you have fun…fooling around."_

China tensed suddenly, his fingers curling into his plush panda. Pakistan saw this. "Is something wrong?"

"…_Wú_, aru," China said slowly, tucking his chin on top of his panda.

"_Oh-oh! I'm coming to __**GET YOU**__!"_ Russia smiled at a very specific section of the audience. _"Oh-oh! I'm running! I'm coming for __**YOU**__! Oh-oh! I'm gonna __**GET YOU**__! I! Know! You! You WANT me to!"_

"He…likes saying 'get you', doesn't he?" America asked.

Latvia was shivering violently in his seat, and Lithuania was becoming increasingly pale. Poland rubbed his arm awkwardly and glared murderously at Russia.

"_If you really want to have fun tonight,"_ Russia breathed into his microphone, his tone suddenly very deep…hypnotizing. _"Just scream."_

Latvia let out a blood-curdling scream that lasted for a short second before Estonia slapped a hand over his mouth. Some other people in the audience obligingly screamed as well.

"_Oh-oh! I'm coming to __**GET YOU**__!"_

"Ugh, we totally get the point!" Poland fumed in frustration. He suddenly stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth. "_HEJ_! Why don't you put a cork in it you _GRUBAS_?"

"FELIKS!" Lithuania cried out, yanking the other country back into his seat.

Russia faltered from the insult, but only slightly. _"I'm coming for __**YOU**__!"_

"Did you see that?" Georgia laughed. "He messed up! No Eurovision 2012 in Moscow!"

"And you won't need to be deliberately disqualified," Azerbaijan said playfully.

"It wasn't deliberate! How was I supposed to know that his boss was so _sensitive_?"

* * *

><p>"<strong>Russia won his first Eurovision in 2008 and hosted the 2009 contest in Moscow. Because of the hostilities between Russia and Georgia, there was constant debate about whether or not Georgia would compete. Georgia decided to compete, but sent in a song called <strong>_**"We Don't Wanna Put In"**_**, with the 'put in' part pronounced in a way that sounded like Putin, after Russia's Prime Minister Vladimir Putin. Russia found this very offensive. When Georgia refused to replace the song or change the lyrics, ESC disqualified him. Georgia would return to complete in 2010 in Oslo, Norway with no problems."**

* * *

><p>Despite the minor disruptions, Russia finished his song without a hitch. The audience cheered for him, but it was difficult to tell if they were genuinely pleased with the song or just terrified of him. He smiled and waved to the audience. <em>Da, keep cheering. For when you all are one with me, the screams you chorus together will be in misery…<em>

Poland yanked out his phone. "Zero points! That's _right_!"

"Ah…" Latvia's hands shook as he checked his phone. "Zero points. G-Good…"

"I, uh, gave him six," Lithuania read.

"Five," Estonia said.

"Nothing," Sweden said, tucking his phone away.

"Me too," Denmark said.

"…And me," Norway said.

"Three for three!" Denmark cheered.

"What?"

"A-And me," Finland said. "I also didn't score him."

"_ARA_!" Georgia screamed when he saw his phone. "_Ra jojokhet'i_?"

"Georgia, what's the matter?" Azerbaijan came right to his side.

"I gave Russia FOUR POINTS!" Georgia yelled. "That bastard doesn't deserve ANYTHING from me! _HOW _did I give him four points?"

"I gave him four points as well," Azerbaijan said grimly. She rubbed at her forehead. "Is this karma for trying to sabotage him?"

"Screw karma!" Georgia shouted, throwing his cell phone at the couch.

"…I gave him five points," Belarus said slowly, as though she hadn't heard them. "That's what he gets for refusing me…"

Russia saw Armenia waiting for him as he came backstage. "Y-You did a wonderful job, Russia. Your performance was very intense."

"_Spasibo_," Russia said sincerely. "And you gave me twelve points, _da_?"

Armenia suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and fidgeted where he stood. "Ah…you see…"

"No twelve points? That's okay; it's still early in the program after all. But you gave me ten like last year, _da_?"

"Um…" Armenia looked like he was in pain. Without saying a word he yanked his cell phone out and handed it to Russia.

Russia flipped open the phone and quickly opened the text. What he saw caused his brow to rise. "_Eight points_?" he looked at the other country in surprise. "This is the lowest you've ever given me, Armenia."

"I-I know," Armenia stammered. "I don't know what's going on, but everything's just _crazy_! Not all of my votes are counted, my appeal is denied, and I score you so _low_! I'm so sorry, Russia!"

Russia sighed very quietly and reached for him. People nearby flinched, whereas Armenia remained still. But Russia didn't hit him or hurt him in any means, just simply tucking the hair behind his ears. "There's really no need to apologize. It's not _you_ personally who scores me. Besides, it's something I deserve, I think. You were just one-point shy of qualifying, and had I given you my perfect instead of Finland, you would've made it through. I should've performed better tonight, too."

"I-I see." Armenia slowly nodded. "I'm glad you aren't offended."

"H-He's letting it go?" one stagehand hissed to another. "But that's _Russia_!"

"But that's one of his closest allies," the other hissed back. "What would he gain by hurting him?"

"Ah!" Russia said, rechecking his phone. "My sister Ukraine has also given me eight points!"

* * *

><p>Hungary leaned her chin into her palm as she smiled at the little boy sitting in front of her. "Do you feel better?"<p>

Northern Cyprus nodded eagerly as he shoved cookies into his mouth. "_Much_ better! I don't remember what happened, though!"

"Well…" Hungary's smile broadened. "Since you've wandered so far from Turkey, why don't we play a little _dress-up_ game?"

"Huh?"

"Hungary," Austria said, calmly cleaning his glasses.

Germany snapped his phone shut and sighed. "…Okay. I officially give up. I can't reach Aniki, and I'm set to go onstage soon. I…" he heaved out an incredibly sad sigh. "I'm going to have to do this alone…"

"Doistuuuuuu!"

Germany turned and saw Italy running into the room, crying uncontrollably. He had a hand to his head. "W-What is it?"

"Nii-san!" Italy wailed, rubbing at his head. "He hit me! He hit me really hard!"

"Why would he do that?" Germany asked, taking him by his shoulders. He saw Hungary giggling behind them and suddenly felt a little self-conscious.

"B-B-Because!" Italy wailed. "He's working me so _hard _and it's all so difficult and I CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN I COME IN DURING OUR SONG!" Italy quickly hugged Germany and cried into his shoulder.

"You can't remember?" Austria echoed. "B-But you're next after France!"

"Come on," Germany said hastily, dragging Italy to the green room bathroom. "Show me where he hit you, and also talk about this song."

The door slammed shut behind them. Hungary laughed even harder, while Austria rubbed at his forehead.

Northern Cyprus though stared blankly at the bathroom door. "Did that guy _really_ kick Turkey's ass?"

* * *

><p>"<strong>In the 15 century, the Ottoman Empire launched a campaign against Italy to claim the land. Unfortunately, he chose a <strong>_**horrible**_** time to start another war, as a civil war erupted inside of the Empire itself during the campaign. To add insult to injury, Italy's army was not as big or as mighty as the Ottoman's but he managed to hold his own against the invaders. On May 3, 1481, the controversial sultan Mehmed II died and the Italy campaign was officially cancelled, having never advanced very far."**

* * *

><p>Germany sat Italy down on the toilet. "Okay, show me where he hit you."<p>

"Here." Italy pointed to the right side of his head with a trembling hand.

"Okay, let me see…" Germany gently raked his fingers through Italy's hair at this spot. "Ah, I found it. You had a nasty bump here, Italy."

Italy whimpered, getting ready to cry again. Germany sighed and patted him on his unhurt side of the head. "The swelling will go down. At least he didn't bruise your face."

"But I'm scared!" Italy cried. "I can hardly remember the lyrics, even though Nii-san and I have been practicing for _months_! And whenever he pushes me when we rehearse I just freeze! H-He's going to start the song and _I'm_ supposed to come in for the duet, b-but I…" he wasn't wailing anymore, but crying very softly. "I'm not having fun, Germany…"

Germany sighed again, and knelt down so that they were eye-level. "Then…why not let Romano do it alone?"

"Eh?" Italy blinked through his tears and gaped at Germany. "W-What? Let Nii-san perform alone?"

"Never mind not knowing the lyrics or not knowing your cue. If this is causing you too much stress, and if you aren't having any fun, then what is it worth? A three-minute song isn't worth all these complications, Italy."

Italy was silent for a moment, and he reached up to wipe away his tears with his sleeve. "I-I don't know, Germany…"

Germany was silent for a moment before he pulled out his cell phone. He opened his saved messages and cycled through them until he found the one he wanted. "Here. Read this, please."

Italy took the phone from him to read the text message.

**Italy (mobile)**

"_Doitsu, Doitsu! Nii-san said he saw you backstage, and it reminded me! I want to wish you good luck! The absolute bestest good luck in the whole, entire world! I just know you're going to do great this year! I have a feeling that you will most definitely win, but even if you don't the important thing is that you have fun, right?"_

Italy glanced at Germany in surprise. "Y-You kept this?" he looked back down at the phone.

"You sent that to me last year, remember? I was so pissed off right before I got this message, but it uplifted me in more ways than…I can really put into words." Germany rubbed the back of his own neck awkwardly. "I mean, I was still embarrassed to sing the song but I tried to have fun with it. That made going onstage really worth it to me."

Italy stared at the phone for a long time. Then he looked at Germany. "I want to have fun too, Doitsu. And I want to sing to you like you sang to me last year."

"Well, then…why not focus on that?" Germany feel heat on his face and he ducked his head. "Don't worry about your brother or about embarrassing yourself. Big brothers are too much of a hassle, anyway." _And I'm going to kill you, Aniki, when I see you!_

Italy's face lit up all of a sudden. "I…I got it! Germany!" Italy grabbed him in a tight hug once more. "I want to sing to you, Germany! A-And I want you to enjoy my song! That's what I want most! More than winning or anything like that!"

Germany's heart thudded hard against the wall of his chest. Italy innocent sincerity was incredibly touching. "_Danke_, Italy. And I know, despite the apprehension that you'll do fine."

"_Grazie_, Germany!" Italy cheered happily. "_Ti amo!_"

Germany's whole face turned red as he recognized the Italian words. "I-Italy—!"

Italy pulled back slightly to plant a kiss onto Germany's mouth.

Germany didn't know if this was some innocent impulse or a genuine romantic-meaning kiss, but he wasn't about to complain. Still, it surprised him how something as simple as a kiss could melt his whole body. He slid his arms around Italy's waist and leaned forward. He hoped Italy didn't notice how hard his heart was pounding.

It was then that the bathroom door violently swung open. "Veneziano, where—AUGH!"

Germany abruptly pulled away from Italy and turned towards the door. Romano was standing there, his face full of rage. Behind him inside the green room, Austria watched on with a bland look on his face, while Hungary was covering her mouth and laughing.

"_Ma che CAZZO_!" Romano screamed, lunging forward. Thankfully for Germany, he had good reflexes and jumped out of the way. "Get off my brother, you _FOTTUTO SOVVERTIRE_!"

"Nii-san, don't talk to Germany like that!" Italy cried out, jumping up as well. "We were just kissing, that's all!"

Hungary was now openly laughing. Romano screamed again, and scrubbed at his ears. "LA, LA, LA! I don't want to hear the _disgusting_ details, Veneziano! We're going onstage soon and you're SUCKING FACE with this potato bastard! Are you _trying _to piss me off?"

"Do you need to yell?" Germany demanded, standing up to his full-height and squaring off his body in case Romano decided to attack him again.

"Him, with his bad smell and his evil aura and his RETARDED TOURISTS!" Romano continued as if Germany hadn't spoken. "Have some sense, Veneziano!"

"Germany helped me!" Italy insisted, standing up to his brother. "I didn't want to perform because you're constantly screaming at me and hitting me! But now, because of him, I know what to do in the song and I want to _have fun_! So don't talk about him like that!"

"Just shut up and come on!" Romano grabbed Italy by his collar and proceeded to drag him from the room.

"Doitsu!" Italy wailed behind him.

"W-Wait—" Germany said.

"Hold on," Austria said, coming to his side. "They go onstage very soon. It's not wise to split them up right now."

"B-But…ugh!" Germany scrubbed a hand over his face. It was frustrating that this tender moment he had with Italy ended on such a sour note.

_But…he said I encouraged him_. Germany smiled a little to himself. _If he's able to get through his performance just fine, then dealing with Romano's antics is worth it._

Northern Cyprus looked at the adults in the room with irritated confusion. "Just what were you guys doing in the bathroom?"

Germany quickly ducked his head as he felt heat on his cheeks. "Er…it was…"

* * *

><p>"Italy! Romano!" France cheered, waving a rose to them. "Come! You go next after me!"<p>

Romano let out a squawk and dragged Italy into another room. France sighed, and held the rose to his lips. "To not be blessed with Italy's embrace before I perform…what a tragedy!"

"Er…" England slowly approached him. "I'm going to regret asking this, but _why_ are you dressed like that…guy America mentioned?"

"Lestat?" France asked. He chuckled. "_I _came before him, remember? I believe…he may have copied me."

"He's a fictional character you git!"

"Oh, you—"

"France!" a stagehand ran up to him. "We're ready for you!"

"_Oui, oui_." France calmed down and smiled sinisterly at England. "Why don't you take some pointers from my performance, England. I'm about to…_seduce_ the audience."

"That's what you think," England muttered as France walked away.

* * *

><p>"Turkey!"<p>

"Huh?" Turkey looked over his shoulder just in time to see Albania jump on him and crush him in a hug. Ack! _S-Selam_, Albania. You wouldn't have happened to have seen Northern Cyprus would you?"

Albania thought about it as he released Turkey. "Well, I heard a hawkmoth—"

"It's _nothing_," Cyprus cut in sharply as he approached with Greece.

"Did I ask you?" Turkey snapped. He turned back to Albania. "What's this about a hawkmoth?"

"Japan," Greece said, frowning slightly as he debated where he would sit. "I wanted to apologize about forcing that ouzo on you."

"I-It's really no problem," Japan said. "I could've refused it, but I didn't. It only made me woozy for awhile, _demo_ I feel better now."

"Ah." Greece smiled, and spotted a seat open in front of Japan. "I'm glad you aren't angry with me."

"Japan, don't excuse his bad behavior!" Turkey snapped. "He was probably looking to get you nice and drunk so he could do _dirty things_ to you! Thankfully it's never gotten that far!"

Japan turned bright red, and Greece smiled to himself. _If only you knew, Turkey…_

Cyprus took a seat next to Greece, while Albania remained with Turkey. "Just let me know when that bastard Serbia takes the stage. I've got a few _colorful_ things I'd like to say to him…"

"…From the _audience_?" Turkey asked slowly.

"_Hey_!" San Marino cried out, turning in his seat. "Don't call Serbia a bastard!"

"Um, dudes, let's not get into a fight in the audience!" America tried to mediate.

"He's right," Pakistan said. "We shouldn't—"

"I thought I told you not to talk to me!" America barked.

"He's _not_ talking to you, aru!" China snapped.

"…So much for that," Canada muttered quietly to Mr. Kumajirou.

"…like that," Seborga said, smiling. He'd been talking nonstop for at least fifteen minutes.

Wy forced a smile at him. "That's nice, but I'd really like to enjoy the show now Seborga. Why don't you go back to your seat?"

"Yeah, bugger off mate!" Australia laughed. "I can barely hear the performances over your talking!"

Seborga grumbled, but climbed back into his seat beside San Marino.

"De-NIED!" Sealand laughed from his seat.

"At least I'M a _real country_!" Seborga fired back.

"WHAT?"

"Everyone, just CHILL!" Poland shouted. "This isn't, like, a world conference! It's just a singing contest and we're supposed to be, like, totally civil!"

"So says the country who heckled Russia during his performance," Estonia said thoughtfully.

Still, the countries knew better than to let their tempers flare at Eurovision over non-musical stuff. Though some countries spread out to take different seats to keep anger at bay.

Except, America refused to move. So did China, and so Pakistan didn't move either.

Dramatic music rumbled through the arena, signaling the next performance. "Wait, who's next?" America asked. He squinted at his program. "…France?"

"_Sognu…di ste labbre."_ It was indeed France. He stood at the microphone, staring at the audience very intensely. _"Di sta voce…chjara è pura…"_

"Is that…opera?" America asked.

"It sure sounds like it," Japan said.

"Well, this is a first," Poland said. Then he thought about it. "I think."

"Whoo-hoo, Francis!" Spain cheered for his friend.

"_Sognu…mi lamentu…"_ France was putting everything into belting out the notes. Despite his earlier confidence, there was no denying that the song was suited for an operatic tenor. Something that Francis Bonnefoy certainly was _not_. _"U moi core…'n hà primura…Di a vita…aspettu dumane…"_

England rubbed at his ear. "If I have to hear this frog-language, I just might throw up!"

"But he's singing in Corsican," Scotland pointed out.

"Which is from Corsica which is _his territory_!" England snapped.

"_Spart'u mondu cun tè! Ma TU…ti ne vogli'andà!" _France felt the strain in his throat and quickly pulled out his rose. _"Canteraghju VITTORIA!"_ he rubbed the flower sensually against his cheek. _"Luntanu de tè! Pensu sempre che! Sei intornu a mè, sognu di TÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈ!"_

As the music played, or maybe to distract from his singing, France began dancing very erotically onstage, even in his Victorian outfit. He even ran his tongue up and down the stem of the clipped rose. It had the desired effect on the women in the audience, who began screaming.

Spain was laughing from this. "Francis is having a bit of fun!"

"It looks like he's getting to second-base with that rose," America said.

"This isn't appropriate!" Finland cried out, covering Åland's eyes.

"_Mamma, vad är fel_?" Åland asked beneath his hands.

"_Ei mitään_—ah, _ingenting_," Finland hastily corrected himself.

"Oh, for God's sake!" England yelled, covered his face as he watched the performance.

The Italy brothers approached the curtain. "Ve!" Italy cheered, clapping lightly. "France-nii-san!"

"Don't cheer for that pervert!" Romano snapped. He rubbed at his temples. "_No, no_, I can't get riled up! We're up next!"

"_Canteraghju!" _France belted out once more. _"Canteraghju a TÈ!"_

"Holy shit, he sucks!" Romano yelled. He laughed. "This is perfect! We're going to _shine_ after this garbage!"

"He doesn't suck, Nii-san!" Italy demanded.

"He sucks _something_," England muttered.

Italy looked at him. "Eh?"

France finished with surprising flare and gave a full bow as the audience screamed. He twirled the rose around his finger as he sauntered off stage. _They melted like butter…they're mine._

"Zero points," Norway read dully.

"Four," Finland said wearily. "France _should_ warn us when he pulls these stunts…"

"When has he ever?" Denmark laughed. "Ah well, I gave him nothing too! Norge! Our minds really _are_ in-synch!"

Norway looked at him. "What?"

"This is the _fifth time _we've marked the same scores! Fifth…" Denmark chuckled to himself. "I really _like_ that number…"

Norway's look turned into a deadly glare.

"I also gave him nothing," Sweden said stoically.

Sealand suddenly grabbed his sleeve. "Papa-Sweden, can't you recognize me as a country? I'm _sick_ of these micro nations using that against me when they can't win an argument! Please please please **PLEEEEEEEEASE**!"

Sweden gaped at him. "Ah…er…"

Greece flipped open his phone. "…Wow. I gave him a perfect score."

"Seven," Cyprus said.

"Nothing," Turkey said, though he glared at the back of Greece's head. "Why am I not surprised you'd give a perfect score to a performance that almost became pornographic?"

"I also gave him twelve points!" Belgium cheered.

"Ten points!" Spain laughed.

"Two," Albania said.

"Me too," Portugal said.

"Three!" San Marino cheered.

"I didn't score him," Lithuania said.

Poland shrugged. "Neither did I, but who cares? Italy's up next!"

"That's right!" Spain said, smiling broadly.

"Yay _fratelli_!" San Marino cheered. Seborga grumbled, but he did sit up a little straighter.

"It's funny, though," Portugal said to Spain. "That for years Romano complained about the idea of the Big Four's immunity, but the minute _he_ gets included in it the complaints stop."

Spain shrugged. "That's just how he is, _no_?"

"Italy?" Japan said. He smiled. "I look forward to his performance."

* * *

><p>"Just one kiss, <em>non<em>?" France purred, puckering his lips.

"Get the FUCK off me!" Romano shrieked, restraining France with all his might.

Italy stood there helplessly. "A-Ah…"

"Just get off him, frog-face!" England hollered. "They go onstage RIGHT NOW!"

"Italy?"

Italy perked up at this voice and France stiffened. "Doitsu!"

Germany was running over with Austria and Hungary. Northern Cyprus was noticeably absent. "Are you about to go on?"

"_Sí_! And I will give an absolutely perfect performance for you!"

Germany smiled and nodded. "I really look forward to it."

"Um, EXCUSE ME?" Romano snapped, still restraining France's head. "Can one of you assholes help me out here?"

"France!" several stagehands rushed over. "Are you harassing Italy before their performance?"

France abruptly let Romano go, and laughed haughtily. "I only intended to give him a good-luck kiss. He didn't exactly say 'no', you kno—OOF!"

Romano violently head-butted him in the back, sending him flying through the backstage area. "I've been SCREAMING no, and pushing you away! _Cazzo di sporco bastardo pervertito_!"

"Just calm down," Austria said, raising his hands. "They're about to call you onstage. You don't want to throw your voice out before you get out there, Romano!"

"Whatever, whatever." Romano brushed himself off and took several deep breaths. "Just give me a moment to compose myself."

Nearby, Iceland was rubbing at his head as he typed in a text message. _"It's turning into some hellish circus back here. There's fighting and screaming, and I just saw France get head-butted into space. I think some people forgot this was a singing contest."_

He sent the message, and shook his head. "I need to find some aspirin…"

The phone hummed in his hand, and he was surprised that he got a response so quickly.

**Oji-san (mobile)**

"_Would you like me to come backstage and help you to feel better?"_

The message was so innocent, but Iceland nearly dropped his cell phone in shock. Trying to keep his mind out of the gutter, he sent a quick reply. _"You're already in the audience, so I'd rather not inconvenience you by having you run between back here and out there. I'll be okay."_

"We'll do fine, Nii-san!" Italy said confidently. "I have this feeling we're going to do great!"

"Just don't miss your cue," Romano reminded him.

Italy smiled and nodded. "I know it now. Thanks to Germany of course."

Romano gaped at him. "A-Are you serious? We've been practicing our song for _months_ and you JUST NOW got it?"

"…Remember calming down?" Hungary said playfully.

"You both will do fi—" Germany began.

"Shut up, I don't need your encouragement!"

* * *

><p>The arena began to darken once more, and a buzz of excitement resonated throughout the audience. Everyone knew who was coming next. And it was a much anticipated performance.<p>

"D-Do you go now?" Italy asked.

Romano shook his head. "They still have to announce us, Veneziano."

"Oh, okay."

"Wait, _announce_ you?" Austria asked.

"_Ladies and gentlemen…"_ a woman's soothing voice came up through the arena. _"It is the moment you've been waiting for. A moment fourteen years in the making. You last saw them as they competed in Ireland in 1997. For so long we were without them to grace our stage…without their voice or talents. And they were sorely missed._

"_But now…now it is time. They have returned again, here tonight in Germany! I hereby welcome ITALY to the stage!"_

The audience shrieked with joy and anticipation. Italy heard the screaming and he shivered with excitement. "Wow…that's all for _us_?"

Romano smiled sincerely for the first time all night at Italy. "Well…let's come back with a bang, Veneziano." With that said, he hurried onto the darkened stage to take his position. Italy would remain offstage to enter in for his solo.

Austria blinked ever so slowly. "That was…something else."

"_Ja_," Germany said.

"As I recall though, _I'm_ also returning after an extended absence. Yet for my semi-final round they didn't announce me onstage like _that_."

"_Sajnálom_," Hungary said sympathetically, rubbing Austria's arm.

Austria felt a hum in his pocket and checked his text message.

**Prussia (mobile)**

"_YOU SUCK! BWAHAHAHAHA!"_

Austria growled in fury and snapped his phone shut.

* * *

><p>Romano took his spot at the front of the stage, the musicians ready behind him. He could play musical instruments, of course, but he felt better for this performance to be directly in front of the crowd.<p>

And the crowd…Romano looked out over the audience. And promptly _froze_.

He knew there were at least 32,000 people in attendance, but it never struck him until every single one of them was looking at him. He bit down hard on his lower lip. _No, no! I'm not going to get stage freight now! I won't screw everything up like Veneziano would!_

And Italy would no doubt screw everything up. So Romano was prepared to sing the entire song himself if necessary.

"So…what kind of song are they going to sing?" America asked.

"A _stupendo_ song!" San Marino cheered.

A piano beat came up from the stage, followed by a violin. Romano took a deep breath and raised his microphone. _"Dire si…dire mai…non è facile, sai…"_

Screams emulated from the crowd, and Romano smiled smugly. _"And all the world around you seems to slip and disappear…"_

"_Sugoi_!" Japan gasped. "T-They're singing jazz!"

"Huh," America said slowly. "That doesn't seem to suit them, does it?"

"_Magnífico_!" Spain cheered.

Romano was ready to launch into the chorus when he saw movement at the side of the stage. _"Ma vedrai…un altro me…in un sogno fragile!"_ Italy sang out, earning more cheers from the audience. Laughing a little, he hurried over to stand beside Romano. _"Riderai! Come se…non ti avessi amato mai."_

Romano gaped at him for a brief second with a look of 'holy-shit-I-can't-believe-you-remembered-your-part', and joined in the singing. _"Cercherai! Un altro me…oltre all'ombra di…un caffè. Troverai…solo me…Se mi fermo un attimo, io non so più chi SEIIIII!"_ both brothers belted out the last word as loud as they could, though surprisingly Italy was louder than Romano.

"…Wow," Austria said at length as the piano launched into a solo. "This is a _really_ good song."

"A-Are you actually complimenting modern music?" Germany asked, taken off-guard.

"I said _most_ of it is terrible, not all of it!"

"_Qui si! Vive così!"_ Romano sang, growing increasingly pleased by the positive response they were receiving. _"Day by day! Night by night!"_

"_But someone hit me and I fell into your heart, my dear,"_ Italy followed, his eyes glancing towards the side of the stage as he sang.

Germany saw the brief look, and he laughed involuntarily. _He…He's singing to me?_

Both Italy and Romano were becoming increasingly enthusiastic about the song. Italy even began twirling around as Romano continued. _"And you'll fly! Over lands! Where your eyes can't find the end!"_ He gestured to the audience, but then he suddenly saw Spain waving wildly at him. Unable to hide his blush, Romano turned his head away.

"_Up on mountains! Down lakes! Being so far away from you just makes me feel de-_**AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH**!"

At that moment, Italy stumbled in his spinning. He regained his balance, but Romano's head was pointing towards him. So as Italy stopped, their _curls became tangled_!

Both brothers started screaming and Italy dropped his microphone, which made a crackling 'thump' against the stage. They tried to pull each other apart, but their foreheads smacked together hard. Still screaming, they both dropped to their knees on the stage.

"W-What's going on?" Austria sputtered.

"_It won't come out! OW!"_

Germany had a sudden embarrassing flashback and ducked his head once more.

"Oh, dear," San Marino said, wringing his hands helplessly as Italy and Romano continued screaming onstage. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…"

Seborga, however, was screaming with laughter, openly pointing and mocking his older brothers.

"Romano gets really angry when I pull that curl," Spain said thoughtfully. "Maybe it _hurts_ him, or something?"

Romano was the only one holding a microphone, and he struggled to finish the song. But since they were nearly pressed up together, everyone could hear the singing and Italy's whining. _"E-E-E vedrai! Un'altra te!"_ he jammed his free hand into Italy's chin so that their faces wouldn't mush together. _"Q-Quasi invincible—"_

"Nii-san, don't push so hard! Don't—OW OW!"

"_Viva come! Non mai! E-E-Ed è li che tu mu avrai!"_

"No, no, that's hurts! You're hurting me, **YOU'RE HURTING ME**!"

"Why are they screaming?" Sealand asked. "Does it hurt, or something?"

"…Probably," Finland said slowly.

"I…don't think this is turning out the way they wanted," Lithuania said slowly.

"Hmm," Poland said, though he smiled. "This is still pretty entertaining, though!"

"_Splenderai! Splender—_QUIT MOVING, _IDIOTA_!—_Splenderai! SPLENDERAI!"_

Mercifully the song was over. Despite the…interruption, most of the audience stood up and cheered wildly. Unfortunately, by this time though their hair had been tangled for quite a while and neither had the strength to get back to their feet.

"Doitsu!" Italy cried into the microphone, which echoed all over the arena. "Doitsu, Doitsu! Help me, please!"

"Don't call him over!" Romano hollered. He tried to pull apart from Italy. "I should've done this fucking performance ALONE!"

Germany groaned as a chorus of 'Doitsu's' came from both Italy and a few obnoxious people in the audience. "Story of my life…" he shook his head and headed out onstage to untangle the brothers.

As Germany set about untangling them, the scores were quickly sent out.

"W-WOW!" Latvia cried out, sitting up in his seat. "Perfect score!"

"Me too!" San Marino cheered. "I kept my promise!"

"No one's surprised," Seborga muttered.

"Perfect score from me too!" Albania laughed. "That was very entertaining!"

Spain was looking at his phone in silence. Portugal glanced at him. "I gave them ten points. How about you?"

"…I'll be right back." Spain jumped out of his seat and took off running.

Portugal stared after him in confusion. "Eh?"

"Ten points," Lithuania said.

"Six," Estonia said.

"Ten!" Poland cheered.

"Ten," Greece read.

"One," Cyprus said.

"I didn't score him," Turkey said. "Meh."

"Me either," Netherlands said.

"Six points," Belgium said.

"T-Three," Finland said.

"Nothing," Norway said.

"Me too," Denmark said. Sparkles filled his eyes. "Our scores keep matching…that means we're in-synch, Norge!"

Norway rolled his eyes.

"I didn't score them," Sweden said.

"Four points!" Hungary cheered as the untangled brothers and Germany came backstage.

"…Six," Austria said. He rubbed at his forehead. "But that's the only song I've enjoyed so far. Maybe my judge was annoyed by the screaming…"

"It's all your fault!" Romano snapped, jabbing Italy hard with his index finger. "All because you decided to spin around like a fucking ballerina!"

Italy began crying. "I'm sorry, Nii-san! I'm so sorry!"

"_I_ like the performance," Germany said, checking his cell phone. He saw the score he gave Italy and winced. "I gave you three points. But I still liked the performance!"

Italy sniffled, and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. "R-Really? You really liked it, Germany?"

"_J-Ja_. And, uh…" he ran a hand through his hair and ducked his head. "I was f-flattered that you sang to me."

Italy's eyes snapped open and he gaped at him. "Y-You knew? Oh Germany!" he jumped on Germany and hugged him tightly. "I'm so happy!"

"Ugh, I'm going to be sick!" Romano gagged.

"_Milyen aranyos_," Hungary cooed, pulling out a camera and taking pictures.

"ROMANO!"

Romano stiffened, but he didn't have time to run away as Spain jumped on him from behind and hugged him tightly. "Motherfuck—GET OFF ME!"

"Romanooooooo," Spain laughed, snuggling him close. "Look, look! I gave you twelve points! My judge gave you a perfect score!"

Romano froze, and grabbed the phone from Spain. "Really?" he opened the text message and saw 'twelve points' printed in it. "_Mio Dio_…that IS a perfect score!"

"_Grazie_, Spain-nii-san!" Italy cheered over his shoulder.

"Latvia, Albania, and San Marino also gave you two perfect scores." Spain snuggled Romano a little closer. "But you are most pleased with _my_ perfect score, _no_?"

"All right, I get it! Now get off me!"

Spain chuckled against his neck, the soft rumble causing shivers to run through Romano's body. "…Do you really want me to?"

"_Sí_!" Romano barked, finally managing to shove him away.

But Spain was still having none of it and grabbed Romano in a loose headlock. "I'll let you _thank me_ for it later. Come, let's go back into the audience!" he proceeded to drag Romano off.

"I want to take a shower! HEY! Let me go, _pomodoro bastardo_!"

Italy smiled at Germany as he let him go. "I'd like to clean up and then go back into the audience. I'll definitely cheer for you, Germany!"

"_Mange tak,_" Germany said, managing a smile.

"…Got plenty of pictures," Hungary hummed to herself, cycling through the gallery in her camera.

Austria just sighed.

* * *

><p>"Four points."<p>

Switzerland snapped his phone shut and tucked it away. He looked at himself in the mirror. He wore a blue tunic-shirt and black slacks. He hadn't expected to get into the final, after failing to qualify for the past four years. But he was here, and he had to give his best show.

Even if the song chosen for him was…_less_ than desirable.

"You're going to do great, Nii-san," Liechtenstein said confidently. "I just know you will."

Switzerland nodded and forced a smile at her. "_Danke_."

"But, um…Nii-san?"

"What is it?"

"Are you going to be taking your gun onstage?"

Switzerland's rifle was strapped to his body. Switzerland looked at the barrel over his shoulder and sighed. "…_Nein_. Here." he reluctantly took the gun off him and handed it to Liechtenstein. "Hang onto this for me, but don't fire it. Not unless a stranger hassles you."

"A-All right." Liechtenstein hugged the rifle to her chest. "Are you ready, Nii-san?"

Switzerland sighed, but nodded. "I'm ready. Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Switzerland is next?" America read from the program.<p>

Poland snorted. "Just wait until you hear his song!"

"He hasn't done too well the past few years," Estonia mused. "After all, the last time he won was in 1988."

"…And he used Celine Dion," Canada said quietly.

"Here we are!"

America perked up at this voice. "Ireland!" he jumped up as the country herself came over, carrying Northern Ireland in her arms. "You did awesome tonight!"

"Thank you!" she laughed sardonically and hugged Northern Ireland to her. "It took awhile to wash all the gel out of this one's hair, but _England_ goes next after Switzerland! And I wasn't going to miss that performance for the world!"

"Hong Kong is performing too, aru!" China cheered.

Ireland blinked. "So _he's_ the fourth member?"

As Switzerland and Liechtenstein made their way towards the stage, they came across Austria, who was no doubt headed back to his green room. After a long moment of silence, Austria spoke. "…Good luck."

"…_Danke_," Switzerland said reluctantly.

They left it at that and went their separate ways. Thankfully for Switzerland (or perhaps for other people), the chaos that had plagued the side of the stage was gone. "Here I go," he breathed slowly. "Please keep that gun handy, Liechtenstein. If anyone laughs at me…"

"Why would anyone laugh at you?" Liechtenstein asked. "You have the best song this year!"

Switzerland managed a small smile at her. "I really appreciate that. Well…here I go."

Liechtenstein watched her brother take his place on the stage. Something flickered out of the corner of her eye and she turned. "Ah! A unicorn!"

**BANG!**

Switzerland jumped, and spun around as the rifle went off. "L-Liechtenstein!"

But his sister looked fine. He sighed in relief and resumed taking his place.

"W-W-What was that?" Japan cried out. "Was that a _gunshot_?"

"It's Switzerland, though," Turkey said. "He's got _plenty _of guns, so firing should be expected."

"A-Ah, _sou desu_." Japan relaxed a little.

An incredibly cheerful melody came from the stage. Switzerland swallowed thickly and raised his microphone, mindful of the childish images pulsating on the giant screen behind him. _"I looked into your eyes...and when I saw your smile…I knew right from the start—life is good…for a while._

"_Romance comes and goes—"_ he shuddered involuntarily. _"But a love like ours! Is here to stay! Each lovely night and sunny day!"_

America snorted, but he covered up his laugh by a few loud coughs.

"_I love everything about you,"_ Switzerland said, his voice straining. _"I couldn't do without you…"_

"_Whenever you're near me, all my days…are on the bright side…."_ Liechtenstein sang along. She kept looking over her shoulder. _I hope I didn't shoot that unicorn…_

"_But when I'm not around you…I have to find a way to…" _Switzerland ducked his head. _Someone please kill me! "Be with you each night! And every day!_

"_Na na na na, na na na…"_

Hearing Switzerland harmonize with the beat, and the overly cheerful song, caused Japan's mind to wander. _"I will tell you all a sto-ry! Of the fine Alpine Milkman!"_ _this_ Switzerland was in a bright green dress and dancing in a field, playing an accordion enthusiastically. _"How they covered him with glo-ry! With his fine Alpine Milk-can!"\_

"_Everybody just adored him!"_ fantasy Japan ran over to join in his singing. _"For his yodel loud and clear!"_

"_Everybody would applaud him! Anytime that he came near!"_ fantasy Switzerland sang back to him. They began to sing and dance together. _"For he'd captivate the ladies with his—"_

Japan abruptly snapped out of his fantasy and smacked himself across the face. "_Watashi wa BAKA_!"

"Japan?" Greece asked, turning in his seat. "Why did you hit yourself?"

"_I couldn't do without you, without you baby," _the real Switzerland sang with great difficulty. He couldn't hide his discomfort anymore. _"Oh no no no no, oh no no eh…"_

"Maybe Liechtenstein was better suited to sing this?" Estonia asked.

Thankfully for Switzerland, the song was finished shortly afterwards. He bowed stiffly and stormed offstage as fast as he could.

The countries all checked their phones, and when they exchanged votes, a rumble of surprise rose between them. "NONE of us scored him?" Finland gasped.

"_Wunderbar_, Nii-san!" Liechtenstein cheered, clapping her hands.

Switzerland was more than happy to be away from _that_. "It wasn't my greatest performance, but I'm more than happy it's over with." He suddenly gave Liechtenstein a leveled look. "Why did the gun go off a while ago?"

"I-I-It was involuntary," Liechtenstein stammered. "I saw a unicorn and I was very surprised! But I may have shot it!" tears filled her eyes. "If I kill a unicorn, does that mean I'll have a curse placed on me?"

Switzerland sighed, and gave her a loose hug. "I don't think you hit it. I didn't hear anything cry out in pain. But if worse comes to worse, I invite _anyone _who would dare try to hurt you."

Liechtenstein clung to him tightly and sniffled. "Thank you, Nii-san! You're always looking out for me!"

* * *

><p>"Turkey!"<p>

"Huh?" Turkey looked over his shoulder, as Cyprus stiffened in front of him. "_Northern Cyprus_!" Turkey jumped up and pulled the child into a hug. "You had me worried! You wouldn't answer your cell phone, and Albania said something about a hawkmoth?"

"I don't remember much," Northern Cyprus admitted. "But I passed out somewhere. I woke up in a green room with Hungary, Germany, and Austria."

"Hungary?" Turkey smiled as he thought of his longtime friend and pulled the child into a seat. "Then you were in good hands!"

"N-Not really." Northern Cyprus motioned for him to lean in close and he whispered into Turkey's ear. "She tried to dress me up like a girl."

* * *

><p>The fun continues next as <em>Germany<em> takes the stage! Will Prussia make a last-minute save, or will Ludwig end up singing that embarrassing song alone?

- From 2006 to 2009, Russia and Armenia swapped perfect scores with each other. This isn't that uncommon with allied countries (ex. Greece and Cyprus, Turkey and Azerbaijan). This trend broke in 2010 when Armenia gave Georgia his perfect score instead and only gave Russia ten points. Russia still gave him a perfect score, though. And despite the technical issues, Armenia was indeed one-point shy of qualifying for the finals. The same thing happened to Belgium in the second semi-final.

- Yes, Celine Dion won Switzerland its second Eurovision title in 1988, and the country hasn't won since. Since she's Canadian, I don't exactly know what the rules are that allowed her to qualify. Did she live in Switzerland for a few years?

- The Switzerland in Japan's fantasy is singing _"The Alpine Milkman"_, which is a worldwide famous folk song from Switzerland. I don't know if an accordion can be played with it, but I thought it was a nice touch, lol. And unfortunately I couldn't find _any_ lyrics for this song, so I had to listen to it in English and transcribe it as such.

Here are the translations for the France and Italy songs, as can be seen at Eurovision's website:

_France_

"I dream of those lips  
>The voice, clear and pure<br>I still think of you  
>That night, there with you<p>

I'm dreaming, but lamenting  
>And my heart, indifferent<br>To the life that awaits me tomorrow  
>I'm kneeling; I look at the sea<p>

I shared the world with you  
>But you, you didn't want to go<br>Singing of victory  
>Far from you, I still think that<br>You're inside me, I dream of you

I will sing, sing to you  
>The song of you and me<p>

I cry and I am the worse for it  
>I will ask the sky until I die<br>There among the mountains, I will confront you  
>To awake myself from this dream<p>

If you die, take me"

_Italy_

"Saying yes, saying never, it's not easy, you know  
>If all of us are in the orbit in this madness<br>I do not know who you are, I do not care who you are  
>I just miss the charm of nostalgia<p>

But you will see another me in a fragile dream  
>You will laugh as if I had never loved you<br>You will look for another me beyond the shadow of a coffee  
>You will find me only if I stop for a moment<br>I no longer know who you are

Here we live like this, day by day, night by night  
>And while the world turns away from its poetry<br>Don't ever portray me, don't ever make me  
>Abandon the threshold of my madness<p>

But you will see another disarmed fragile me  
>Because who you are, no, it will never change<br>Even if I were you, like the time I'd run out  
>But stay with me, don't let me miss a single moment of you<p>

And you will see another you, almost invincible  
>Alive as ever and it is there where you will have me<br>False magic will be beyond the horizon  
>Shine, shine, shine, shine"<p> 


	5. England, Moldova, Germany, Austria

I anticipate that this story will have at least three more chapters after this one. I might branch the finale into an extra chapter though, because of how long these chapters are getting.

P.S.—thank you atlantiandragoness for inspiring me with a better idea!

Chapter 5

Italy sat quietly on the couch, calmly tapping his foot in the silent green room. After a few moments, he got to his feet and walked straight to the bathroom door. He could hear splashing water inside. "Nii-san! Nii-san!" he called out as he knocked on the door. "Are you guys done yet? I want to take a shower too!"

"Guh—GO AWAY, _IDIOTA_!" Romano screamed from inside the bathroom.

"Italy, would you mind giving us ten more minutes?" an overly cheerful voice asked after Romano's scream.

"Ve…" Italy's shoulders drooped as his hand dropped from the door. "No fair…"

"Italy?"

Italy's mood brightened instantly as he recognized this voice. "Germany!" he rushed at the door and hugged the other country tightly. "Did you come to see me?"

"_Ja_," Germany said. "I wanted to see you before I went onstage. But why are you standing around in your green room alone?"

"Oh, I'm not alone!" Italy said brightly. "Nii-san and Spain-nii-san are taking a shower!"

Germany's smile faded, and his face turned bright red. "EH?"

"_Sí_, I came back here to take a shower, but Spain-nii-san and Nii-san were already here!" Italy explained obliviously. "Spain-nii-san _insisted_ on helping Nii-san in the shower!" Italy shrugged. "I guess they're saving time by taking a shower at the same time!"

Germany very slowly looked towards the closed bathroom door. Then he grabbed Italy by his wrist. "Why don't you come to my green room and use my shower?" not waiting for a reply, he pulled the smaller country out of the room and down the hall.

"That's nice of you, Germany!" Italy cheered. "Why don't _we_ take a shower together to save time?"

Germany choked, and sputtered for a few moments as his face grew hotter. "Uhhhhh…"

* * *

><p>England fixed his tie for the umpteenth time. "Okay…we're next guys. Are you ready?"<p>

"Yeah," Scotland said, stretching out his arms. "Let's go and sing your crappy song."

"It's NOT crappy!"

"Well," Wales said. "It's certainly better than your entry last year."

"That's because _we're_ here!" Scotland added snidely.

Both Scotland and Wales laughed obnoxiously. England snarled at them before turning to Hong Kong. "How do you feel about the song?"

Hong Kong smoothed out the wrinkles in his dark suit. He'd had to trade in his traditional clothes for this outfit to match the others. "…Okay."

"Good," England said, though he didn't miss the note in Hong Kong's voice. The child had only had about an hour to rehearse the song and the performance, after all. "Well then, let's go out there and bring Eurovision back to London!"

"Eurovision was in London all the other times you won," Scotland pointed out. "Why not have it in Edinburgh instead?"

"I think hosting it in Cardiff is a pretty good idea," Wales said.

"Why not let _me_ host it in _my_ house?" Hong Kong asked blandly. "It would be a change of locale, and I can't say no to tourists."

"It wouldn't be _Euro_vision then if it's in Asia," Scotland said.

"This show broadcasts to Australia and has non-European countries participating," Wales said. "It's not really _Euro_vision anymore."

"Everyone just shut it!" England snapped in exasperation. "We have to get onstage!"

The three countries fell into step behind England, but Scotland spoke up. "Don't think this is a dead subject, _especially_ if we win."

"Guh! You lot is more annoying than _Ireland_!"

* * *

><p>Canada looked up as he felt someone come to stand beside his seat. "France?"<p>

"Hello Matthew," France said, forcing a pained smile. "Do you still have my seat saved?"

"Y-Yes." Canada quickly looked France over. He was dressed in more modern clothing now, but he was nursing his back with his hand and was slightly hunched over. "Are you okay?"

"_Oui_. I just had a…_run-in_ with Romano." France moved over to the seat he had before and carefully sat down. "It will go away by tomorrow, but _merde_. How am I supposed to party tonight if I can barely walk?"

_It's probably your own fault_, Canada thought, but he didn't dare say it aloud.

"Guys!" Ireland called out to the former British Empire. "England's about to take the stage!"

They were all eager of course to see this song that England had desperately called them all to save.

"I get to see Hong Kong perform, aru!" China cheered, waving his panda plush toy.

"You've never heard him sing?" America asked over his shoulder.

China stopped cheering for a moment to glare at America. "Have _you_, aru?"

America shrugged. "No, but then again he's not _my _kid."

China's face turned red from anger and embarrassment. "_Aiya_! He's _not_ my child! He's my little brother, aru!"

"…Okay." America didn't _quite_ sound convinced.

"If he says they're brothers, then—" Pakistan began.

"Don't talk to me!"

Sealand pouted and folded his arms over his chest. "He could've asked ME to help him with his song! But nooooo! It's probably because _nobody_ recognizes me!" he grabbed Sweden by his sleeve again. "Recognize me as a country! _Please_!"

Sweden stared at him for a long moment, and then looked at Finland. Finland looked like he was at a loss with the situation. "Er…"

Synthesized music rose from the stage, and Sweden breathed out a short sigh of relief. "It's starting."

"…Yeah." Sealand continued to pout.

"All right, GO ENGLAND!" America shouted.

Onstage, England flinched at the shout. He stood in front of fours panels, with Scotland a few feet away facing him. _It's okay,_ he told himself. _You're going to do great. You AREN'T going to be last this year!_

England let out a breath and raised his microphone. _"You were the eyes in the face of fortune! I—lost my way and I couldn't you, Oh! Oh no…"_

England and Scotland pointed to each other simultaneously, and Scotland joined the singing. _"We're not the first ones to be divided! Won't—be the last to be reunited, No!"_ at that moment, Wales and Hong Kong emerged from behind two of the panels. _"Oh no…"_

Scotland took the lead, as Wales sang along with him. _"It's like rain falling down! Drops of pain hit the ground! I can't speak—there's not sound! When you're gone!"_

"_Yeah, yeah, come on,"_ Hong Kong sang in the most bland, uninspired voice.

The four countries onstage stretched their arms out wide. _"I can! I will! I know! I can! Untie these hands!"_

"_And get back up again,"_ Hong Kong sang as though the lyric was an afterthought.

"Woo-hoo, Hong Kong!" China cheered, standing up to wave. If Hong Kong saw him, he didn't react at all.

"…Are they supposed to be a boy band?" America asked. "They remind me of the Backstreet Boys!"

"You're correct," France said, but he winced again and nursed his back. "_Merde_…"

"They would sound totally awesome if _I_ was there!" Sealand yelled.

Scotland took the lead in the song, though England looked just a little miffed by this. _"I have never lost anything quite like this! No second chances if I don't find it—No!"_

"_No,"_ Hong Kong echoed, in a non-singing way. He earned a dirty look from England. But he joined Scotland in the duet like he was supposed to. _"You closed the door and you kept on walking! Left me behind and there's no more talking—No!"_

"Well…this is _certainly_ better than the crud he brought out last year," Australia mused.

Wy laughed. "Are you mad that you refused him?"

"Of course not!"

"_I can! I will! I know! I can! Untie these hands!"_ England was becoming very enthusiastic about the song. There wasn't much he could do about Hong Kong's deadpan performance, but he dismissed it from having an hour to rehearse. But the boy sure was stiff as hell as he followed their dance. _But I can't lose!_

"Ve…" Italy was rubbing a towel through his hair as he exited Germany's shower. "Thank you for letting me use your shower, Doitsu! But, I still think you would save time showering with me!"

"That's true," Hungary added unhelpfully. "It would've saved you a _lot_ of time."

"I've already taken a shower so it's _fine_," Germany said through gritted teeth.

Austria said nothing, only drank his tea.

"Wow," Italy said, watching England's performance on the television. England, Scotland, and Wales were jumping around enthusiastically around the stage, while Hong Kong for the most part was stationary and waved his arm. "I didn't know Hong Kong was in Europe!"

"…He's not," Austria said, rubbing his face. "But a lot of the countries who participate here aren't Europeans countries."

"…_Get back up again!"_ England pumped at fist up as the song finished and they were greeted by many screams in the audience. He couldn't help but laugh himself at the positive response. And he wasn't heckled _once_ during his performance! He was caught up in it all that he hugged all of his siblings one by one, much to each country's annoyance.

"…That was very good," Northern Ireland said, clapping for them.

Ireland snorted. "That's only because SCOTLAND, WALES, AND HONG KONG HELPED HIM!" she shouted loudly.

"Hong Kong is the best, aru!" China shouted, jumping up and down and clapping.

England flinched at the shouts and glared murderously in the direction of the countries as the four hurried offstage.

"Five points," Latvia checked his phone.

"Nothing," Estonia said.

"Three," Lithuania said.

"One," Poland said.

"Me too!" France cheered.

Ireland whipped out her phone and snorted. "Six points."

"Three points," Denmark said.

"One," Norway said.

Denmark's shoulders drooped. "We're no longer in-synch…"

"I-I didn't score them," Finland said.

"…Neither did I," Sweden said.

"Yes, we did it!" England cheered backstage. "That was bloody brilliant, everyone!"

"It's only because _we're_ here," Scotland said, wiping his brow with a towel.

"Shut it!"

Hong Kong calmly drank some water. "Can I go home now?"

* * *

><p>Italy laughed as he looked at his phone. "I gave England ten points!"<p>

"That's good," Germany said, looking at Hungary and Austria. The three of them didn't score England.

"Germany, you go next after Moldova, right? Then I'll hurry to the audience to watch you!"

"_Danke_, Italy."

"You're welcome!" Italy ran over and gave Germany a peck on the cheek. Germany's whole face turned red. "Best of luck tonight!"

Germany didn't give a proper response. He only stammered as Italy ran from the room.

"That was so cute!" Hungary gushed, clasping her hands to her face.

Austria merely straightened his glasses. "Moldova goes next, then Germany. Then Romania—" he didn't miss Hungary's flinch. "And then _I_ go. It will…definitely be interesting."

* * *

><p>Bulgaria closed his phone. "I gave England a perfect score." He regarded the Romanian siblings in front of him. "You guys are next, right?"<p>

"Moldova is," Transylvania said, looking his smaller brother over. "How do you feel?"

"Awkward," Moldova said, fixing the cone-shaped hat on his head. "And hungry, too. I wish I had something to eat before now."

"I could give you some yogurt if you want," Bulgaria offered.

Moldova shook his head. "_Mulţumesc_, but it won't do any good."

"We'll get a bite to eat after we perform," Wallachia said reassuringly, cuddling her brother to her. "But do take heed next time all right? This performance is going to ask _a lot_ of energy out of you."

"Don't _I _know it." Moldova sighed but nodded. "Well, I'd better go."

"Just as long as we don't get harassed by a certain _unpleasant person_," Wallachia said. "Then everything should go good for us."

"You don't exactly help matters by egging her on," Transylvania pointed out. "_Especially_ since our bosses get along now."

Bulgaria watched the siblings walked away. He shrugged and opened a cup of yogurt. "Too bad _I _didn't make it…again."

* * *

><p>Italy happily skipped down the aisle, humming a song to himself. <em>Germany goes onstage soon! Germany goes onstage soon!<em>

He was surprised though, at what he saw when he got to his row. "Nii-san? You're already here?"

"Shut up," Romano grumbled under his breath. He was scowling and his arms were folded over his chest.

"You both did outstanding!" San Marino gushed. "I gave you guys a perfect score!"

"Our fucking curls got tangled!" Romano snapped. "How is _that_ outstanding?"

"Nii-san," Italy said as he moved towards his seat. "Why are you in such a bad mood? Didn't your shower relax you? I mean, you guys were in there for a lon—"

"SHUT UP!" Romano hollered. He started strangling Italy. "I'm going to kill you!"

Poland laughed hysterically. "Who were you, like, totally _showering_ with Romano?"

"Please don't fight!" San Marino cried out, trying to break his brothers apart. Seborga simply remained in his seat and laughed.

Spain was laughing lightly as well. "Come now, Romano, don't be so angry. You certainly didn't mind when I—"

Romano screamed in rage, let Italy go, and lunged at him instead.

Portugal watched the brawl going on beside him with a bland look on his face. "Maybe you shouldn't have spoken?"

"Will we be leaving once Hong Kong comes out here?" Pakistan asked China.

"Must we leave so soon?" Taiwan asked. "I want to see the nightlife here!"

"Hmm…" China thought about it as he pet his plush toy. He smiled after a moment. "I don't think we'll need to leave immediately, aru. Besides, I want to make _absolutely certain_ that England fulfills his end of the bargain."

"…Now I'm _definitely_ afraid to ask what it was about," Pakistan said slowly.

"_**SO LUCKY**__!"_

Loud music exploded from the stage. Romano ceased in beating up Spain and abruptly turned around in his seat as Moldova's performance started. Crazy images spun around on the large screen behind him. _"Flashes! Ray ban glasses!"_ he screamed into the microphone. _"I move with ease in my convertible breeze!"_

"_**SO LUCKY**__!"_ his band mates shrieked with him.

"_Martini! Whiskey on the rocks! Life on the top! My body never stops!"_

"_**SO LUCKY**__!"_

America was still for a moment before he sprung up in his seat. "This is the GREATEST SONG EVER!"

"This song _always _gives me a headache," Austria complained as Germany, Hungary, and he walked towards the edge of the curtain. "Again, can someone _please_ explain to me how this qualified for the finals?"

"…He's got energy, that's for sure," Hungary admitted reluctantly as Moldova continued screaming into the microphone.

"_I see you where the lights glow. You pull me in your private side show…"_

"At least he's _singing_ now," Austria said.

Wallachia and Transylvania watched the trio from the opposite wall. Wallachia gritted her teeth and began to step forward. "How _dare_ they make fun of Moldova's performance!"

"Don't," Transylvania told her. "We go onstage soon. We don't want to create problems before then."

"_I see!" _Moldova screamed some more. It was amazing he didn't throw his voice out yet. _"She's somehow changing me! She's where I want to be—CAN'T STAND A MOMENT WITHOUT HER!"_

"SO LUCKY!" Italy and America shouted from the audience, annoying most everyone around them.

Austria brushed off his clothes. He was wearing a cream-colored suit with a black tie. He glanced at Germany briefly. "…You're performing looking like that?"

Germany's hair was messy on his head, and he was wearing a tight black turtleneck, which showed off the muscles in his chest, and black slacks. "This was…my boss's idea." He shuddered. "My backup dancers are dressed in silver body suits, so…"

"You'll certainly bring attention to yourself," Hungary laughed.

Moldova's performance finished, and the audience cheered. He bowed so deeply that his cone-shaped hat fell to the floor. He hastily picked it up and ran backstage, nearly headlong into Germany. "A-Ah!" he stammered for a moment when he saw Germany. "Good luck."

"_Danke_," Germany said sincerely, though his stomach was in knots. _It's time…and Aniki never showed up…_

"Moldova," Transylvania called to him. "We gave you a perfect score."

"_Mulţumesc_!" Moldova cheered, rushing over to his siblings. He smiled at the score in his phone, but sighed sadly. "Italy's a bit unreachable at this point, though…"

"It's still early," Wallachia reassured him. "Even if you can't do it, _we_ can certainly try to surpass him!"

Germany was watching them. "I…just heard them mention Italy. Why do they want to beat him? Do they hold a _grudge_?"

"Don't let it get to you," Austria interrupted.

Hungary refused to look at them as she quickly opened her phone. "Zero points." She breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Four points," Germany said, though he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. _I'm next. And I'm doing it alone…_

"_F-Five_?" Austria sputtered. "I actually scored THAT?"

"That was _so_ awesome!" America cheered, still clapping his hands. "I'm going to ask Moldova to perform that at my birthday party!"

"I gave him one point," Belgium said.

"Five," Portugal said.

"Eight points!" Italy cheered. "And Germany is up next!" Romano rolled his eyes.

"F-Four," Lithuania stammered.

"And me," France cooed.

"Enough," Poland cut in before he gave Lithuania a measuring look.

Lithuania saw the look and became uncomfortable. "What is it, Feliks?"

"You, like, totally didn't answer me earlier, Liet. Did you sing your song to me?"

Lithuania felt his face turn red and he ducked his head. "Uh…um…"

"The lack of a direct answer," Estonia said unhelpfully. "Means you confirm his suspicions."

"Eduard, keep your observations to yourself!" Lithuania snapped.

"**OH LIET**!" Poland jumped on him and hugged him tightly. "That's so totally awesome of you! You were singing that fabulous song to ME!"

"But weren't you just complaining about the quality of his performance?" Latvia asked.

"Feliks, please get off me!" Lithuania couldn't really push Poland away from him, and so his hands flailed above their heads. "We can talk about this later, just _please_ get off me!"

England joined the countries with Hong Kong, Scotland, and Wales. England paused for a moment to gawk at the display between Poland and Lithuania before he moved down the aisle towards his seat. Scotland and Wales joined their fellow former British Empire brethren, while Hong Kong walked straight up to China. "Are we leaving? Because I'd _really _like to go back to bed."

China jumped up to give him a quick hug. "_Duìbùqĭ_, but we want to stay here a little while longer, aru." He gently stroked his hair. "Don't be mad at me, neh?"

Hong Kong sighed heavily. "Fine. If we're staying, just give me our room key. I really want to get some sleep."

"You're probably going to hop on the internet and play online games!" England snapped.

Hong Kong glared at him, and reached into his sleeve. England saw the tail-end of a shell-rocket and raised his hands. "I-I-I mean, use the internet and play as much as you want! Don't worry about the bill, _I'm_ covering it!"

Hong Kong stood still for a moment before he shoved the shell-rocket back up his sleeve. "I was _only_ going to sleep, but I'll definitely go on the internet now."

England scoffed as the younger country walked away, but still when he saw China's peculiar smile. "W-What is it?"

"Don't think I've forgotten, aru," China said pleasantly. His smile slipped slightly and his eyes narrowed. "I _fully_ intend that you keep your promise, aru."

"Of course I will!" England snapped, but his face turned red as he found his seat. _Bugger, bugger! Why must I be subjected to such humiliating things?_

Finland looked over his shoulder. "China and England made a wager, too?"

Denmark snorted. "It's not as _**awesome**_ as ours, right Norge?"

Norway glared at him.

"Doitsu!" Italy cheered. He stood up and waved a German flag. "Good luck! Good luck!"

"Stop cheering for him!" Romano snapped. "He's an opponent, you're not allowed to cheer for him!"

Italy pouted at him. "Says who?"

"SAYS ME!"

"Germany-san is next?" Japan brightened up. "I would love to see him sing again."

"He's the host, after all," Greece said, smiling at Japan.

"Stop hitting on him!" Turkey barked at Greece over Japan's head.

Germany rubbed a hand over his face. "I can't believe I have to do this alone…"

"Just don't think about Prussia," Austria said. "Don't even think about your own personal feelings for the song. This is _your_ soil, Germany, and you're the host. Concentrate on making the best impression on the rest of Europe."

"I know…"

"And concentrate on singing to Italy!" Hungary added.

Germany sputtered, but shook his head furiously. "I have to go!" he hurried onstage.

Austria gave her a look. "You flustered him."

Hungary shrugged. "He's cuter that way."

* * *

><p>Germany took his position onstage, nodding to his backup dancers. One of the women looked a little strange to him, but he brushed it off. It was dark on the stage after all, and he was nervous.<p>

The audience began cheering obligingly for the host country as synthesized music floated over the arena, and silhouette lights filled the stage. Germany swallowed thickly and took a deep breath.

"Doitsu!"

And saw _Italy_ in the audience!

_Nein_! He quickly shook his head. _You knew he would be there! It's no big deal that you're doing this alone!_

He raised the microphone to his mouth. _"She's got knuckle in her eye. He knows her…cat call. Can't escape from telling lies. I heard her say—ing…"_ his body swayed stiffly with the music as his backup dancers danced elaborately behind him. _"Heeeey! Mind if I take this chair? …Heeeey! Mind if I take this chair?"_

Romano suddenly screamed with laughter. "I thought NOTHING could top last year! But this…THIS!" he barreled into San Marino, hugging his sides and laughing hysterically.

"Nii-san, stop laughing!" Italy cried out.

Germany couldn't miss Romano obnoxious laughter. _Not again…_

He shook it off as best as he could. _"Taken by a…stranger. Stranger things are starting to begin. Lured into the…danger. Trip me up and spin me 'round again…_

"_You got some coffee on your collar. And you forgot to…comb your hair…"_

"W-Where's Prussia?" Canada asked suddenly, sitting up in his seat. "Is Germany really singing alone this time?"

"I can't believe Gilbert would miss out on being in the spotlight," Spain said.

"Me either," France added.

"Well, for once he was smart because this song **SUCKS**!" Romano bellowed out.

"Nii-san!" Italy covered Romano's mouth with both hands. "If you don't stop I'll never forgive you!"

"Fucking—I CAN'T BREATHE, _IDIOTA_!"

"_Can't help it if you like it 'cause I won't be here tomorrow,"_ Germany sang with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. _"No-one ever told you that you wouldn't be rejected…"_

Italy stopped trying to cover Romano's mouth and looked at the stage with horror. "…Rejected? Germany's _rejecting me_?"

"HA HA, you got dumped!" Romano laughed.

"Oh…" Italy pressed a fist over his own mouth and began to cry. "GERMANY DOESN'T LOVE ME!"

Germany stumbled in the song. _"S-Stranger things are starting to begin!"_

"Oh my _God_…" England grumbled, hiding his face.

"It's just a _stupid song_, not reality!" Seborga yelled at Italy. "_Mio Dio_, get over yourself!"

Italy wiped at his eyes. "R-Really? He didn't mean it?"

"I-I'm sure Germany really does love you, Feliciano," San Marino soothed, giving Seborga a dirty look.

Turkey felt a tug on his sleeve. "What is it, Northern Cyprus?"

"Please be serious," Northern Cyprus said. "_Please_ don't tell me _that guy_ kicked your ass!"

Turkey stared at him blankly. "Uh…"

Germany somehow got through the chorus and became harmonizing painfully. He slowly maneuvered around in an awkwardly circle, facing each dancer as he spun. Two of the women were dancing flawlessly in their body suits, but the third…the _weird one's_ movements were jerky and sporadic. It was as though she were deliberately following the lead of the other two. Germany absently noticed that her chest was rather flat for a woman.

Then he saw her face…and abruptly spun back around to face the audience. _"Taken by a…stranger!" _he belted out with more enthusiasm than he'd shown the entire show. _"Stranger things are starting to begin!"_

"I have to make sure that he means it!" Italy said, more to himself than anything but everyone heard him. "I-I mean, the most he's told me is _"Ich liebe dich"_!"

Poland looked at him for a long moment. "You…_do_, like, totally realize that's German for 'I love you', right?"

Italy's eyes went round. "R-Really?"

France chuckled. "_Oui_, Italy. But how do you know if love is real unless they show—"

"GERMANY LOVES ME!" Italy shrieked, startling everyone around him. He jumped to his feet and waved the German flag while hopping up and down. "Doitsu, Doitsu!"

"…Wow," Pakistan said slowly.

"He's always like that," America said. "He—" then he realized he was talking to Pakistan and clammed up.

"_Trip me up and spin me 'round again."_ Germany nearly breathed out a sigh of relief into the microphone as the song ended. Screams and cheers rose from the audience, and he bowed as the main lights came up.

His backup dancers and singer each bowed as well, and moved to hurry offstage. Germany saw the weird girl that had caught his eye, and by her easygoing movements he knew she hadn't seen his visible reaction. He rushed forward and grabbed her wrist tight in his fist. Ignoring her protests he bodily dragged her off the stage with him.

"…Why is Germany-san manhandling that girl?" Japan asked.

"She looks rather flat-chested to be a girl," America observed.

"God, you're disgusting!" England snapped, smacking him.

Austria and Hungary rushed forward as Germany dragged the girl backstage. "Germany, what are you doing?" Austria asked.

Germany growled, and violently shoved the girl forward. "So HERE you are, ANIKI!"

Austria stiffened. "…_Prussia_?"

"Give me a break, West!" the dancer ripped the hood off, revealing silver hair and Prussia's annoyed face. "Why are you bitching? I helped you, didn't I?"

"You…" Germany was shaking with rage as he regarded his older brother. "You avoid helping me sing the performance on OUR SOIL that's suppose to represent US, and you don't!"

"I've had to put up with your whining _all month_!" Prussia snapped. "You could've fought the song! We didn't need to sing another song from _Lena_, of all people! But did you? _Nein_! And don't act like I left you hanging! I look so unmanly in this getup!"

Hungary looked Prussia over, in his silver bodysuit, and burst out laughing. "You look _awful_!"

"It…certainly took guts," Austria said painfully.

Prussia rubbed a hand through his hand, and glitter flew all over the place. "So you have no right to complain, West! My cell phone was suspended because you overloaded my voicemail and text message box! I think you owe me more than I owe you!"

Germany still very still for a moment. Then he lunged at Prussia. "**A-NI-KIIIIII**!"

Austria felt his cell phone buzz and he checked the score. "Wow. I gave Germany ten points."

"I…didn't score him," Hungary said. She made a face as she put her phone away. "Is my judge asleep, or something? I haven't scored anyone in awhile!"

Everyone else went about checking their scores.

"Eight points," Denmark said.

"Five," Norway said.

"Six," Sweden said.

"W-Wow," Finland said. "The whole lot of us gave Germany perfect scores last year, but this year is so different…"

Eight," Latvia said.

"Four," Poland said. He snorted. "That's too good for him…"

"Uh, Feliks?" Lithuania asked.

"What, Liet?"

"Can you get off me now?"

Poland had been snuggled in Lithuania's lap. He smiled and gave his friend some mercy. "Okay…but don't think this is over."

"Of course not," Lithuania said painfully. He took the opportunity to check his score. "Two points…"

"Three," France said.

"Me too, _mi amigo_!" Spain cheered.

"…Three," Turkey read.

"Five," Netherlands read neutrally. He snapped his phone shut. "These performances are idiotic! I still don't know why, not only am I not _in _the final, but how I got LAST PLACE in my semi-final!"

"Five," Belgium cheered. She glared at Netherlands playfully. "Would you enjoy it more if Czech or Liechtenstein or some other little gi—"

"Belgium, just stop it!" Netherlands snapped.

"What's this about Liechtenstein?"

Both countries jumped as Switzerland came over to them, Liechtenstein trailing behind him. "N-N-Nothing!" Netherlands stammered.

Switzerland glared at him closely for a moment. "Good." He took a seat a little further back, Liechtenstein of course behind him. Netherlands sighed very quietly.

"Ohhh, I'm too nervous!" Italy squealed, looking at his phone. "I'm afraid of the score we gave Germany!"

"Six points," Romano read blandly. "That's six points too many."

Italy's face fell. "W-W-We didn't give Germany our _perfect score_? WHY?"

"Probably because _he_ didn't give us a perfect score, either!"

* * *

><p>Wallachia brushed out her skirt. "Well…we're next."<p>

"_Da_," Transylvania said. Several feet away they could hear Germany abusing Prussia, but they didn't care. "And then…we will eat."

Moldova nodded and smiled toothily. He was out of his stage costume and in more comfortable clothing. "I look forward to it."

"You'll both be fine," Bulgaria said, mindful of the stagehands trembling nearby at the Romanian siblings. "You have a strong song this year. The audience seems receptive."

Wallachia laughed and trailed a hand lightly down his cheek. "Thank you for your _kindness_." Transylvania and she then answered their summons to the stage, while Bulgaria and Moldova remained behind.

Hungary scoffed in disgust. Austria and her didn't seem to notice the fight between the two Germanic brothers behind them. "There's _no way_ those two will score higher than me! Especially with their fake vampire attitudes!"

"W-What do you mean?" a random stagehand asked her. "They're _obviously_ vampires! They're pale but dark! They don't eat food or drink water; at least not that anyone has seen so far! And they can make objects move without touching them! Those are all vampirism traits!"

"They're NOT vampires!" Hungary snapped at him. "I've known them for over seven hundred years, so believe me when I say they're not vampires! Ugh!" she rubbed at her head as Austria pulled her away from the frightened man. "Why are people so stupid?"

"Who knows?" Austria said quietly.

* * *

><p>"Iceland goes onstage soon, doesn't he?" Finland asked.<p>

"…A few more performances from now," Norway confirmed. "I think Romania is next now."

Greenland suddenly had an idea. "How can we be sure that Iceland isn't with _**OJI-SAN**_?"

He quickly whipped around in his seat to try and catch the other countries. To his great disappointment, nobody visibly reacted to his words. "Dammit…"

"Why'd you shout _Oji-san_ all of a sudden?" Denmark asked.

"I was hoping to catch the guy—or girl—red-handed. But nobody took the bait."

"_Oji-san_ may be backstage and not in the audience," Sweden pointed out. "He might not even be present here, or a European country."

Faroe flinched suddenly. "What…" she looked at the other Nordics. "What if it's Japan?"

"_Japan_?" Greenland exclaimed. "Are you kidding? That guy's too much of a _prude_ to write that text message you told me about!"

"_What_ text message?" Norway demanded.

"But _Oji-san_ is a Japanese nickname, right?" Faroe said. "P-Plus, the two of them and you, Norway, are pretty close because of your whale-hunting…"

"Those are all very valid points," Finland said thoughtfully.

"But isn't he like, _eight thousand years old_?" Denmark cried out, looking a little sick.

"He's _two thousand_," Sweden said. "But…I don't think he's the one."

"Yeah, _China's_ the eight-thousand year old one," Greenland said.

"FIVE THOUSAND, _XIĂOZI_!" China shouted from a few rows back.

Greenland glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "Wow, he heard me?"

Norway suddenly rose from his seat and stormed down the row towards the far aisle. "W-Where are you going?" Denmark cried after him.

"What did that text message say?" Sealand asked.

"I-It…" Faroe stammered. "_Oji-san_ told Iceland he had a beautiful spirit and body."

"…Oh. But what's NOT prudish about that?"

* * *

><p>"…Need to just stay away from that brat, Japan," Turkey told him. "I've known him for much longer, and I <em>know<em> what he's capable of!"

Japan kept his head ducked because he was blushing so hard. "I-I-I'm quite all right, Turkey-san…"

For once Greece remained out of the conversation, cuddling a kitten in his lap. _I'll keep quiet because I will hurt Japan if I say anything. Besides, leaving him out of the loop is so much more fun…_

"Japan."

Japan, Turkey, and Greece jumped at this voice. Japan turned to see Norway standing there. The Nordic country still had a calm, neutral expression, but his eyes… "_Hai_?"

Norway reached out and placed his hands on either side of Japan's chair. He leaned in slightly. "You aren't doing anything _inappropriate_ with Iceland, are you?"

Japan's blush, if possible, grew deeper. "_N-N-N-Nani_?"

"You're not anything _improper_ with my little brother, correct? Such as _sending lewd text messages_ or anything _physical_, right?"

Japan cried out in alarm, and raised his hands. "I-I don't know where you got that idea, Norway-san, but I don't see Iceland-kun that way! I m-mean, the last time I talked to him was over two months ago, and that was to compare dolphin recipes! That's it, I swear!"

Norway's eyes narrowed very slightly. "You promise?"

"_Hai_, absolutely!"

Norway glared at him for a moment longer before he nodded. "_Greit_. I believe you." He paused for a moment before he spoke again. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm still not one hundred percent yet, but I won't give up."

Norway nodded. "That's good to hear." Then he abruptly walked away.

Greece slowly turned in his seat. "What was _that_ all about?"

Turkey shrugged. "Who knows?"

"I…certainly don't," Japan said.

"You still EAT DOLPHIN?" America cried, startling them. He grabbed Japan by the front of his shirt. "Dude, what is _wrong_ with you?"

"A-A-America—"

"Don't you know that dolphins are smart? Probably one of the smartest animals in the world! _And _they have psychic powers!"

"America, they don't—" England began.

"They have psychic powers and can sense evil and they save you when you're drowning!" America continued as though England hadn't attempted to speak. "Don't you remember _Ecco the Dolphin_?"

"Come on, stop manhandling him like that," Greece said harshly.

…_I'm not going to win this argument_, Japan thought miserably. _But what else is new?_

Movement on the stage caught everyone's attention. Transylvania took a seat at the piano, while Wallachia took the microphone front and center. "Hey, isn't that the vampires?" America.

"For the last time, they _aren't_ vampires!" England snapped.

Transylvania began pounding on the piano keys sharply to the beat of the song. Wallachia slinked up to the microphone and leaned. _"You think you've got the time to figure it out! Life will pass you by! Time is running out! Oh, yeah…"_

* * *

><p><strong>Oji-san (mobile)<strong>

"_Your brethren are on the warpath trying to identify me. Do you want me to just come out now? It's not like I have anything to hide."_

Iceland pinched the bridge of his nose. Was it too much to ask for that his brother and all the others just _stay_ out of his business? _He _certainly doesn't go up to Sweden or Finland to ask about their love life, or even tease Norway about denying his own feelings for Denmark!

_So WHY must they bother me like this?_

He knew that it was because he was one of the youngest. And they raised him, and so they felt they could prod into his life as much as they wanted.

It was with these sour feelings that Iceland sent a response back.

"_You're an adult, so the decision is up to you. But I don't think Norway will be too pleased."_

He sent the message back and sighed. This was too annoying! He shouldn't be this annoyed when he had to go onstage soon!

His phone buzzed, and he was surprised that he got a response so quickly. But the reply didn't make him feel any better.

"_I just saw him corner Japan. I can tell that 'Big Brother' will be a handful for us."_

Iceland closed his phone sharply, but then something caught his eye. He saw a large shadow across the opposite wall of an animal of some sort. But…it looked like it was limping. "Was that a…horse?" he looked at Mr. Puffin for clarification.

"Norway summoned a unicorn, which has been running amuck," Mr. Puffin said.

Over their heads, Wallachia continued to sing the song with Transylvania singing backup vocals. _"'Cause I can't change the world alone! I need you all—I need you all! Everybody! Start dreaming of it!"_

"A _unicorn_?" Iceland got up and moved towards the corridor the shadow traveled down. Something on the floor though caught his eye. He looked down and saw many little silver drops of liquid in a straight line down the hall. "Wha…"

Realization down on him, and he panicked. "It's _blood_! The unicorn's _bleeding_!" he took off running down the hall. "_Bíddu_! Please, let me help you!"

Mr. Puffin squawked and beat his wings furiously. "Let's get to it before it's too late!"

* * *

><p>"Ahhh," Prussia said, slumping against the wall as he sat down. "There's nothing on Earth that tastes better than German beer!"<p>

He took a swig from his bottle, but promptly upchucked the beer as pain exploded up the left side of his face. "Ow, ow, ow, OW!"

"That's what you get," Hungary said sourly, shaking her head at him.

"Shut up!" Prussia wailed. "West didn't have any right to punch me right in the face! Where is he, anyway?"

"Cleaning up," Austria said idly. "Ah, it looks like Romania is finished."

Hungary stiffened, but Prussia snorted. "They'll probably get higher marks than EITHER of you!"

"No, they won't!" Hungary snapped, but checked her phone as it buzzed. "ONE? I gave that _kurva _one point?" she snarled in rage.

Austria mutely checked his phone. "I…gave them one as well."

"…Nothing," Prussia read, still nursing his cheek.

"Perfect score!" Moldova cheered, showing his siblings his phone.

"Six," Bulgaria said.

Transylvania nodded, though his mouth formed a thin line. "We can't catch up to Italy, though. You're closer than us, Moldova."

Moldova's face fell. "Oh no…"

"Why are they talking about Italy?" Hungary demanded. "Are they _threatening him_?"

Wallachia seemed to hear her words and slowly sauntered over to her. "Are we continuing our _conversation_ from before, Elizabeta?"

"Why do you keep bringing up Italy's name?" Hungary snapped, jabbing a finger at her.

Wallachia smiled sinisterly. "Wouldn't _you _like to know?"

"I'm warning you!" Hungary hollered. "If you touch Italy, I'll make you so sorry! I raised him, and I won't let anyone hurt him!"

"Who said anything about hurting Italy?" Moldova asked as the rest of them came over.

"We can't engage her," Transylvania hissed to Wallachia, pulling on her arm.

"_Nu_, I want to hear her out," Wallachia said harshly, pulling her arm loose. "She's threatening me, so I'd like to hear what she plans on doing to me if I _dare_ cross her!"

"Girl-fight!" Prussia cheered from the floor.

"Hungary—" Austria began.

"Don't provoke me!" Hungary barked. "I've put up with enough of your trouble-making presence! I _try_ to tolerate you because our bosses deemed us as "friends", but if you hurt Italy I'll force _gulyás_ down your throat and expose your _flat teeth_ to people to prove you AREN'T a vampire!"

"_Gulyás_ is good, though," Bulgaria said.

Wallachia laughed. "If we're going to be creative, would you like to know what _I _would do?"

"Hardly," Hungary huffed.

Wallachia spread her arms wide. "I would give you an iron throne…and a scepter, even. They would glow red, hot from heat, and they would burn your hands and your body. Then I would place a crown upon your pretty head." Wallachia smiled sinisterly. "A _hot_ crown that would sizzle your hair and cook your flesh. Then I would share you…with all of your friends, after having starved them for a full week. Seeing your partially cooked, partially _alive_ body…their mouths would water with hunger. And, before they could contain themselves, they would feast upon your flesh."

Austria gaped in absolute horror at Wallachia. Transylvania was hiding his face in his hands. Hungary's face was turning purple from rage.

Prussia gently nursed his breathed and accessed the situation. "_Damn_."

"Austria!" a stagehand ran over. "We're ready for you!"

"_D-D-Danke_," Austria stammered. He grabbed Hungary and pulled her with him past the siblings. Wallachia laughed sardonically. "Did you see her face? The nerve that she _dare_ be offended?"

"…That brought back horrible memories," Transylvania muttered.

* * *

><p>Turkey traced the back of Japan's seat before he stood up. "I hate to leave, but Azerbaijan goes on after Austria. I must see her before she performs."<p>

"_W-Wakatteyo_," Japan stammered. "Wish her good luck for me."

Turkey chuckled. "I will."

"Can I see Azerbaijan too?" Northern Cyprus asked. "I just don't want to see Hungary!"

"Of course." Turkey picked the boy up into his arms as he departed.

Greece sighed in relief as he left. "Good…"

Spain sighed, but stood as well. "I must go, too. I perform after Iceland."

Romano scoffed. "And miss your _ex's_ performance?"

Spain laughed. "Are you jealous, _mi amor_?"

"FUCK NO!"

"D-Don't mind Nii-san!" Italy stammered. "He's angry we gave our perfect score to Romania!"

"_Sí_," Spain sighed. "I would've loved to have had the favor returned to me as I gave you two a perfect score. But I _do_ look forward to the score you do give me." He smiled brightly. "I won FIFA in 2010, so my chances are good!"

Most of the countries surrounding him grumbled at the reminder, and Netherlands gave him a death-glare.

America, however, jumped to his feet. "You may have won FIFA, but _I_ won the most medals at the 2010 Winter Olympics!"

"Oh, get off it!" England snapped. "How many times do we have to tell you that it's not the TOTAL medal count that matters, but the GOLD MEDAL count?"

"Says you!"

"Says _everyone_!"

Ireland laughed. "_You_ only say it matters because your total medals count usually sucks!"

"_Yours_ isn't much better!"

"I shall go now!" Spain chorused cheerfully. He kissed Romano right on the top of his head and quickly ran off before the other country could react. "_BASTARDO_!"

Canada hugged Mr. Kumajirou to his chest. "…_I_ won the most gold medals…"

* * *

><p>"<em>Please<em> don't engage them again," Austria pleaded Hungary. "That was very trying for me to see right before my performance."

"Sajnálom," Hungary said sincerely, hanging her head. "I didn't mean to distress you…"

"It's fine so long as it's done. Right?"

Hungary nodded. "I won't bother with them again for the night."

That was good enough for Austria. "Well…here I go."

"YOUR SONG SUCKS!" Prussia yelled from where he sat.

Austria rolled his eyes, but Hungary snarled. "Keep your mouth shut!"

Prussia shrugged, but he climbed to his feet and walked away.

Austria did some last-minute breathing exercises as he took his place on the stage. _I can do this. The best music in history comes from me. I can do this…_

"Mr. Austria!" Liechtenstein cheered. Switzerland didn't look so enthusiastic.

"Yay," Romano said sarcastically, clapping sarcastically as well.

"I know he'll do well," Belgium said positively.

Austria took one last deep breath, and raised the microphone. _"When I close my eyes…I fall into a dream. Can't you see this world? Of people…live in peace."_ He looked out over the darkened arena. _"The sun is shining in my heart! Rainbows in the sky! Spread your wings and fly! Fly, fly, high…"_

The music began behind him, and Austria smiled. _"We're gonna dream us on our way! In a world where are not meant to stay! Together we can—"_

"BOOOOOO!" came a shout from the opposite side of the stage.

"_Make it, OH!" _Austria sang without pause, training as a musician allowing him to not falter from an interruption. _"The secret is you! It's love…"_ he quickly looked to where the shout came from.

It was Prussia. He was standing on the opposite side of the backstage as Hungary! A quick glance at Hungary showed she could see Prussia, and was seething in rage.

Austria pressed onwards regardless. _"When I smile inside my heart! I feel—"_

"LIKE A PANSY!" Prussia shouted.

"—_All the fear and doubts! They turn into…belief. I feel right! We'll make it right—"_

"NO, YOU WON'T!"

"Aniki…" Germany growled in the green room, hugging his head.

"What's that weird echo I keep hearing?" America asked.

"I…also hear it," Japan said.

France laughed. "It sounds like Gilbert is _annoying_ the dear Roderich…"

"But why?" Italy asked. "Why would Gilbert bother Mr. Austria?"

"When does he not?" Poland asked.

Thankfully for Austria, he had hundreds of years of experience tolerating Prussia's antics. Each insult and interruption merely deflected off him as he became more and more involved in his song. _"We're gonna dream us on our way! In a world where we're not meant to stay! Together we can make it, OH! The secret is LOVE!"_

He extended his hand out gracefully to the audience. _"I'm reaching out my hand to you! So, just let the light shine through! So we can realize the wonder of LOVE!"_ he belted out the word as loud as he could.

Hungary choked, pressing a hand to her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. She wasn't even paying attention to Prussia anymore. "You're doing so good, Austria…"

"This is pretty good!" England said.

"Well, he _does _pride himself on being a musician," Portugal mused.

So, in spite of Prussia's heckling, Austria finished with amazing grace. He bowed deeply as everyone cheered. Overcome with emotions, Hungary ran out onstage and hugged him tightly, earning more cheers.

"Why is Miss Hungary onstage?" Italy asked as he checked his score. "Ah, seven points!"

"Why else?" Belgium laughed. "Aww, I didn't score him!"

"…One point," Netherlands said.

"Nii-san, check your score!" Liechtenstein pleaded Switzerland.

Switzerland sighed, but flipped open his phone. "Two points."

"Four," Ireland read.

"Zero," England sighed.

"Two points," Lithuania read.

"Nothing," Norway said, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

"Five," Finland said.

Hungary kissed Austria on the cheek. "My judge gave you two points, but _I _think your performance was the best tonight!"

"_Mange tak_," Austria said, though he looked towards Prussia. "I was able to do it, even with some _annoying_ interference."

Hungary's mood darkened, and she dug her fingers into his sleeve. "I'll make sure he pays for that…"

Prussia screamed loudly as he looked at his phone. "_Nein. Nein, nein, nein, nein, __**NEIN**_!"

"Is something the matter?" a stagehand ran over to him. "Why are you screaming?"

"LOOK!" Prussia screamed, shoving his phone into the man's face. "TWELVE POINTS! I GAVE THAT ARISTOCRATIC DOUCHE-BAG A PERFECT SCORE! **WHY** DID I DO THAT?"

The man stared at him blankly. "Uh…"

* * *

><p>Norway's cell phone buzzed in his pocket. <em>Didn't I just get my score back?<em> He pulled it out and checked the caller-I.D. He nearly launched out of his seat in surprise.

"W-What's wrong?" Faroe asked him.

"…It's my boss," he said. "He sent me a text message." He quickly brought it up on his phone.

**Jens Stoltenberg (mobile)**

"_Det har kommet meg oppmerksom på at eneste grunnen til at vi ikke kvalifiserer var på grunn av juryen stemme. Vi var rangert blant de ti beste med seer stemmer, men juryen panelet helt stemte vår sang ned. Jeg er så lei meg, Norge."_

Norway stared at this blankly. Finland leaned over Sealand's seat to look at him. "What's wrong, Norway?"

"…Nothing," Norway said in a calm voice. "Everything is fine."

Finland heard a faint crunching noise and looked down at Norway's hand. "Ah!" he cried out in panic. "You're crushing your cell phone, Norway! Don't break it!"

* * *

><p>Moldova's song wasn't my favorite this year, but it was sure as hell entertaining!<p>

- Edinburgh and Cardiff are the capitals of Scotland and Wales respectively.

- Wallachia's morbid story to Hungary actually happened. In the sixteenth century all of Romania was under the rule of the Kingdom of Hungary, and was repressed. György Dózsa, a Romanian nobleman of Transylvania, led an unsuccessful campaign to drive Hungary out. Unfortunately he was captured, and…everything that Wallachia described happened to him by Hungarian soldiers. Hungary was _just a little_ bloodthirsty back then, neh?

- Norway's text came from the current Prime Minister of Norway, Jens Stoltenberg. The contents of the text are recent facts that have been revealed by the voting in this year's Eurovision.


	6. Azerbaijan, Iceland, Spain

Chapter 6

Prussia scoffed as he towel-dried his hair. "Not that anyone _cares_, but I managed to get all the glitter out! _And_ the shower hurt my fucking face!" he winced and nursed his purpling cheek. "_Scheiße_…"

"You'll be fine," Germany said, stretching his arms over his head. "Consider it _payback_ for all the trouble you put me through."

"Payback?" Prussia snapped. "What did _I_ do wrong, West?"

"You ditched him for his performance, when you two are the hosts," Hungary pointed out.

"I danced—"

"_Sloppily_, though. Everyone could tell you weren't in synch with the other dancers."

"Oh, why don't you just SHUT UP?" Prussia snapped finally.

Hungary hissed, and raised a frying pan. "What did you say to me?"

Prussia yelped, and shielded his head. "No more bruises! I still have to go on television later!"

Germany's head snapped up, and he gaped at his brother. "W-What? So you want to do the _finale_ with me?"

"Of course I do! We practiced the song together!"

"But you missed the rehearsal!"

"_Ja_! 'Cause if I came to the rehearsal you'd hook me into doing that crappy song!"

Germany growled in rage and stood up. "The finale is bigger than our actual performance! You don't have a damned clue of what we're supposed to do, DO YOU?"

"I'll just watch the video of the rehearsal!" Prussia snapped, but then nursed his face again. "Ow, ow! _Scheiße HӦLLE_, West! How can you treat your older brother this way?"

"If you want to brush up on the finale," Austria said. "Then you'd better hunt down a video of it as soon as possible. Only seven countries are left to perform, and Azerbaijan goes on next."

"_Ja_, _ja_, whatever." Prussia waved a dismissive hand. "I'll look for it on YouTube." He abruptly glared at the other three countries. "But if _anyone_ hits me again I'm bailing out on this! I don't care if we're the hosts; I'm _too awesome_ to put up with this shit!"

Germany gritted his teeth as Prussia ran out of the room. "_Scheißkerl…_"

His pocket began to hum. He checked his cell phone and saw someone trying to call him. "_Ja_, Italy?"

Hungary giggled loudly. "It seems little Italy is _quite_ glued to his side!"

"_Ja_," Austria said disinterestedly. He turned on the green room television. "Azerbaijan is next to perform. Her song is…_okay_, to say the least."

Hungary shrugged. "She came in second on both of our semi-final round. I guess we'll see how it goes."

Germany suddenly jerked the phone away from his ear. Loud, indistinctive screaming burst from his cell phone before the line loudly disconnected. "…Romano hung up on me again…"

* * *

><p>"Ah…" Azerbaijan looked at herself in the mirror one last time. "I'm so nervous…"<p>

"You'll make us proud," Turkey told her, coming up to stand behind her and smiling broadly at her reflection. "To take a duet and sing it solo is a challenge, Azer. But you pulled it off beautifully in our semi-final round, and you'll do just fine here."

"Yeah!" Northern Cyprus cheered from the couch. "You'll do better than Greece and _Cyprus_!"

"_Sağ olun_." Azerbaijan managed a small smile and brushed out her white dress. "I couldn't help but fall in love with the song when I first heard it. Although…" she laughed nervously as she turned around. "Maybe singing it by myself wasn't such a good idea. Why don't you join me onstage, Sadiq? I _did_ say I would represent us both…"

Turkey laughed uneasily. "You are my precious _kardeş_, Azer, and it would be very _weird_ for us to sing a love duet together." But he pulled her into a hug. "But you'll do great. I just know you will."

"I agree." Georgia stood up from the couch and approached the siblings. "Everyone's a sucker for a good love song. That and your song is really good. You're bound to rank high."

"_Sağ olun_." Azerbaijan smiled at him as she pulled away from Turkey. "Well then…I better go out there and make my people and Sadiq's proud, ne?"

"Absolutely!" Turkey cheered.

They departed from the green room and started down the hall. As he walked behind Azerbaijan though, Turkey looked over his shoulder very discreetly a few times. Azerbaijan also noticed that he was checking open green rooms they passed. "Is something wrong, Sadiq?"

"A-Ah, _yok_ Azer," Turkey stammered. He looked embarrassed to have been caught like that.

"It looks like you're looking for someone," Northern Cyprus pointed out unhelpfully.

"If you're looking for _him_." her voice darkened very quickly. "I would _hopefully_ think he would be _smart enough_ to stay away from me."

"I don't think Armenia would deliberately—" Georgia began.

"_Please_ stop defending him! And _don't_ mention his name to me!"

"N-Now Azer," Turkey stammered, gently pushing her along. "Don't get so riled up before you go onstage…"

* * *

><p>"Azerbaijan is next," America read from his program. He thought about it. "Where's he located?"<p>

"Azerbaijan is a _she_ as you'll recall," England corrected sharply. "And she is Turkey's neighbor."

"They're…_siblings_," Greece said darkly.

"She's really hot too," Romano added unnecessarily.

"I really like the outfits she picks out for herself each other," Poland said thoughtfully. "Her dress this year is fabulous as well…"

"Hmm…" America shrugged and reclined in his seat.

The arena darkened, and vocalizing rose from the stage. _"Oh, oh! Ah-oh! Oh, oh! Ah-oh!"_

After a moment of vocalizing, the backup dancers stepped away to reveal Azerbaijan standing alone. With the bright lights, her white dress against her bronze skin, and dark hair hanging long, she seemed to glow onstage. _"Come to me…come to me tonight! Oh God, I need you! Anyway…Baby! I just wanna be…"_ she moved into the next part of the duet with a roll of her head. _"Be around you all the time! Oh God, I need you! Ooh…_

"_I'm running—I'm scared tonight! I'm running—I'm scared of life! I'm running—I'm scared of breathing…" _Azerbaijan gestured to the audience. _"'Cause I adore you…"_

"_I'm running—I'm scared tonight!"_ Turkey sang loudly backstage, clutching his hands to his chest. _"I'm running—I'm scared of life!"_

Georgia rubbed at his ear slightly. "Maybe you should've joined her duet?"

"_Come to me…Come to be a bit more!"_ Azerbaijan belted out. _"Oh, God I need you! There's nothing left for me to say…"_

"She seems really into it," Finland said. "I wonder if she's singing directly to someone."

"…Perhaps," Sweden said.

"Ahhhh…" Turkey was beside himself with glee. "Look at her! She's doing so _well_! And she says she represents me too! I'm so _proud_ of her!"

"Knowing that will mean a lot to her," Georgia said, managing a small smile.

Azerbaijan kept the momentum going, and finished as strongly as she started. She curtsied to the audience as they cheered and hurried offstage.

"Eight points," Poland said.

"Two," Latvia said.

"I a-also gave her eight," Lithuania said.

"Me too," Estonia said.

"…Five," Greece muttered. After a moment he shrugged. "At least it's not Turkey…"

"Three," Ireland said.

"Six," France said.

"W-We didn't score her!" Italy said.

"Like I said," Romano said. "Frugal."

"Ten points!" San Marino cheered.

"…One," Switzerland said.

"Eight," Portugal said.

"Six," Netherlands said.

"Three," Belgium said.

"I…didn't score her," Denmark said.

"Five points," Finland said.

"Three," Sweden said.

"…Eight," Norway said.

"PERFECT SCORE!" Turkey cheered, sweeping Azerbaijan up into his arms.

"I _knew_ I could count on you, Sadiq!" Azerbaijan cheered, kissing him on the cheek.

"I gave you eight points," Georgia said, showing his phone.

"And I'm grateful!" Azerbaijan gave him a hug and a kiss too. "I have a very good feeling about my performance! And just knowing I did better than HIM makes everything worth it!"

Turkey and Georgia exchanged a short look before Turkey laughed uncomfortably. "Azer…"

* * *

><p>"<em>Twelve points."<em>

"I think it must be over now," Armenia said, switching on the green room television. "If I have to hear Azerbaijan sing, my ears will bleed."

Russia stared at his phone blankly, and at the score listed there. He slowly looked up at Armenia, whose back was to him. "Good, good. Her performance is over. I gave her zero points, _thankfully_. Now I just have to wa…"

Armenia trailed off suddenly, and looked over his shoulder, as if noticing Russia was watching him. "Is something wrong?"

"…_Net_," Russia said, closing his phone and putting it in his pocket. "Nothing is wrong."

* * *

><p>"So…I'm next," Slovenia said, slowly brushing out his dark shirt.<p>

"Azerbaijan got a nice response from the audience," Croatia said, looking over her shoulder. "But your song is pretty popular as well."

"Most of us already gave our perfect scores to Bosnia and Herzegovina," Serbia said. The aforementioned couple were sitting together and talking quietly. "But we can still give you high marks regardless."

Macedonia was looking off to the side. "I'll…be right back." Before anyone could respond, the young man ran off.

"But I'm about to go onstage!" Slovenia protested. He scoffed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Never mind…"

* * *

><p>Several feet away, Bulgaria was kneeling next to a tiny but strange-colored puddle on the floor. "Is this…blood? But it's silver."<p>

"Do you want me to check?" Wallachia asked over his shoulder.

Bulgaria quickly shook his head. "_Ne, blagodarya_."

"_Zdravo_!"

Bulgaria started only slightly as he felt a body slide down beside him. "_Zdraveĭte_, Macedonia."

Macedonia smiled at Bulgaria briefly before he looked down at the puddle. "What is that?"

"It's blood…I think." Bulgaria rubbed at his forehead uncomfortably. "It's silver, though. But I think unicorn's bleed silver blood."

"But why would a unicorn be bleeding _here_?"

Bulgaria shrugged. "Why is a unicorn here to begin with?"

"_Da_, that's a good point."

"Was there something you needed from me?" Bulgaria asked.

"Am I bothering you?" Macedonia countered playfully.

"…_Ne_. But since Slovenia is about to go onstage, I thought that you might want to cheer for him."

"Oh, I do. I just wanted to see you first."

"Hmm…" Bulgaria rubbed a hand through his own hair awkwardly. "Is this about the lang—"

"It's not like that. Can't I speak with an old friend without ulterior motives?"

* * *

><p>"<strong>Macedonia is a nation that has always strived to prove its own individuality, because the world has hardly viewed him as his own state. In 836 A.D. he was united with Bulgaria in the First Bulgarian Empire, although he was officially classified as 'of Bulgaria'. Macedonia mostly considered himself Slavic. Until the 15<strong>**th**** century he was constantly caught in a tug-of-war between Bulgaria and Serbia over who would have him, with Bulgaria ultimately the victor. Then the Ottoman Empire annexed them both, where they would remain for the next 500 years.**

**With the end of the Russo-Turkish War of 1878, Bulgaria was able to declare himself an independent country and took Macedonia with him. However, with the First Balkan War of 1912 and then World War I, Macedonia was "reclassified" to being 'of Serbia', and Serbia took him away to be united in the Yugoslavia. Macedonia was able to declare independence from Yugoslavia on September 25, 1991, with Bulgaria being the very first country to recognize his independence. Thus, Macedonia was finally able to be his own individual state.**

**Although currently locked in heated dispute with Bulgaria over his identity (as Bulgaria still considers Macedonia to be 'of him') they are able to maintain cordial and very close relations."**

* * *

><p>"I should probably get going though," Macedonia said, brushing out his pants. "Can we talk later, though?"<p>

"Sure," Bulgaria said at length. He paused before he continued. "It was nice talking to you."

"_Da_, you too."

* * *

><p>"<em>Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message—"<em>

Norway snapped his phone shut. "Nothing."

"Iceland isn't picking up the phone?" Faroe asked.

"He might be busy," Sealand said. He looked down the front of his chair. "I think I just saw gnomes…"

"Let me know if you see a _boggart_," Greenland said, absently cracking his knuckles.

"Y-You crushed your phone pretty hard earlier," Finland stammered. "Maybe something broke?"

Greenland snorted. "He's probably with _Oji-san_."

Norway stiffened, and Finland laughed loudly and nervously. "N-Now, now! Iceland goes onstage next after Slovenia! He wouldn't have time to do…uh…" he looked at Norway and blushed. "_Anteeksi_, please forget I said anything."

"_Vad är fel_?" Åland asked.

"_Ingenting_," Finland reassured her.

"…_Né_," Greenland conceded.

Denmark waved a hand. "Our Ice is too innocent to do stuff like that anyways! We taught him better than that!"

"…How?" Sweden asked slowly. "Look at your wa—"

Norway quickly waved a hand. Sweden's mouth snapped shut and his lips pressed together. He struggled briefly to open his open, but couldn't. Shrugging it off, he leaned back in his seat and glared at Norway as he pulled out his cell phone.

Piano keys sounded throughout the arena. Purple lights engulfed the stage as Slovenia raised his microphone. _"And you came to me one night! Like a morning light…"_

"Nii-san, stop making me hang up on Germany!" Italy whined.

"Shut up and watch the show!" Romano snapped.

"I'll just call him again!"

"Be quiet!" most everyone around him shouted.

Italy began to cry. "You're all so mean…"

* * *

><p>"<em>No one will ever hold you tight! No one will ever love you like! Just no-one like I do!"<em>

"You're very lucky," Iceland said, calmly cleaning the leg-wound. "You say you were shot, but it looks like the bullet grazed you. I heard a gun go off when Switzerland was onstage, and I know he carries around a rifle…" he shuddered slightly. "If the bullet hit you directly, you wouldn't be able to walk."

The unicorn remained silent, though he was watching Iceland very intensely.

Iceland whistled, and a fairy flew over to him. On his direction the fairy gently kissed the wound, and after a moment the graze sealed up. "There, you should be fine now. But I would be careful walking until you go back to where you belong."

"Try standing up!" Mr. Puffin encouraged.

The unicorn moved his once injured leg very slightly. Then he tentatively climbed to his feet. He neighed in surprised as he remained steady on his feet, and not in pain.

"Good," Iceland praised, standing up.

The unicorn suddenly turned to him and pierced Iceland with intense violet eyes. _"I am in your debt."_

"I-It's really no problem—"

"_It is the weapon of a human that hurt me. But, it was the care of a human that saved me. I thank you, Fair Maiden."_

"You're wel…" Iceland trailed off slowly. "I-I'm sorry, excuse me?"

The unicorn stepped closer. _"Fair Maiden, might I have your name?"_

Mr. Puffin squawked with laughter. Iceland glared at him before facing the unicorn. "I-I'm sorry, but you've got it all wrong. I'm the country of Iceland, not a Fair Maiden."

"_Hmm…"_ the unicorn thought about it for a moment before he bowed his head low. _"Then I thank you, Fair Maiden Iceland."_

Iceland's jaw dropped, and Mr. Puffin laughed harder. "_N-Nei_, you've got it all wrong! I'm NOT a Fair Maiden!"

The unicorn raised his head and looked at Iceland very closely. _"Then…you are not a virgin? But you are so young, milady."_

Iceland sputtered, and Mr. Puffin had to take flight because he couldn't stop laughing. "It's not that I'm not a virgin, _nothing_ like that!"

It appeared the poor unicorn thought Iceland was a girl. _Why does he think this way? I have a very deep, MALE VOICE!_

"…_I have shamed you, to think the worst of you,"_ the unicorn said, bowing his head again. _"Especially when you have saved me. Please forgive my impudence."_

Iceland sighed. "That's no prob—"

The unicorn abruptly straightened. _"I will marry you."_

"_H-Hvað_?" Iceland cried out. Above them, Slovenia's song still blasted from the intercoms. _"Life goes—all around! Spin-ning all around! Now you want me, don't you?"_

"_I will take you as my Eternal Bride and bestow upon you my powers,"_ the unicorn said, stepping closer to Iceland.

"Uhhhhhh…" Iceland raised his hands and took a couple of steps back. "_Takk_, for the offer, but I already have—"

"_If you are betrothed,"_ the unicorn interrupted. _"I will fight the suitor for your hand."_

"Um, uh…" Iceland looked around himself helplessly, but saw no one. "I'm truly sorry, but—WAGH!" he suddenly looked at his own watch. "_Guð minn_, I'm next to perform! I'm going to miss my own performance!" without another word to the unicorn, he took off running back down the hall, Mr. Puffin quickly flying after him.

The unicorn stared after Iceland for a long moment before he shook his head. _"What a strange girl."_

* * *

><p>"Twelve points!" Bosnia showed Slovenia as the other country ran backstage. "Herzegovina and I gave you a perfect score!"<p>

"_Hvala_!" Slovenia laughed, wiping at his brow. "I had more fun than I thought I would!"

"Perfect score," Croatia praised, showing her phone.

"Ten points," Serbia said. He paused before he continued. "…That means none of you can give _me_ a perfect score now."

An uncomfortable silence engulfed the other countries for a moment before Macedonia interjected. "_Ten points_!"

Behind them, Iceland was scrambling to get ready. He looked incredibly flustered, and several women were fixing his hair and brushing out his clothes. Someone—maybe his boss—was hissing something in his ear and he just kept nodding apologetically. "Is…he going to be okay?" Croatia said slowly.

"Rumors are running rampant about him," Bosnia said. "And it doesn't help that Norway is summoning all these magical creatures. I feel sorry for him…"

"He's got a catchy song," Slovenia said, smiling slightly. "But the worse he does mean better for those of us in the final, right?"

* * *

><p>"Ah, Iceland is next!" America said.<p>

Japan flinched, remembering his near-confrontation with Norway.

"I'll cheer for him so long as he can control that bloody volcano!" England fumed.

Poland glared at him. "Why are _you_ complaining? It's not like that ash, like, totally obstructed anything totally important for _you_, right?"

"Feliks—" Lithuania began.

"I know, I know." Poland waved a hand and sunk into his seat. "I'm just venting. If Russia were nearby I'd, like, totally throw something at him."

Lithuania slowly blinked. "What does Russia have to do with your not getting in the final?"

"Because he's _always here_!" Poland snapped. "And doesn't _anyone_ find it suspicious that everyone messed up for the first five songs, but then _magically_ fixed themselves when it was time for Serbia and Russia to take the stage?"

"Hey!" Albania said, snapping to attention. "Hey, you're _absolutely_ right! Everything _did_ start working again for the most part when _**Serbia**_ took the stage!" he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "That bastard! I'll make him pay, I swear I will!"

Greece groaned and rubbed at his forehead.

**Sweden (mobile)**

"_Remove this spell, please."_

Norway glared at his cell phone, and then glared at Sweden. "You don't talk much anyways. Why does this bother you?"

Sweden glared back and texted back. _"I will be quiet about this idiotic wager you made with Denmark, but I want my voice back."_

"Norway," Finland said. "I don't know what Su-san was saying that offended you, but please remove that spell on him."

"Oh, what's the use?" Denmark laughed, pinching Sweden's stiff cheek. "It's nice to see old Sweden forced into his usual silence and _pleading_ for mercy!"

Norway waved his hand abruptly, canceling the spell. Sweden took the opportunity to grab Denmark's hand in his fist. "Don't touch me."

Denmark pouted at his fun being ruined, but the arena darkened once more, signaling the start of Iceland's performance. The Nordics snapped to attention as Iceland took his place with the other performers. Iceland took a deep breath, but quickly glanced over his shoulder to make sure that unicorn wasn't anywhere near him. _I'm not a "Fair Maiden" and I'm certainly NOT getting married to a unicorn!_ He shuddered slightly. _Norway would see Hell freeze over anyways before that happened, anyway…_

He signaled to the band that he was ready. The guitar started up an upbeat but melancholy melody. The audience quickly began clapping in time with the music. Iceland forced his focus on the song, and the person these lyrics were meant. _"Some say I'm a bit of a fool…"_ he certainly _felt_ foolish in that moment. _"Sitting on a hill and counting raindrops. Keep thinking I just wanna go…to the peaceful place I know! That I call home…"_

"He doesn't look well," Finland said worriedly. "Is he okay?"

Norway said nothing, but his brow knitted in worry.

"'_Cause I can't wait! For tomorrow! To say the things I wanna say! Your smile will always lead my way—I can't wait! I'm comin' soon! I just wanna see your face again!"_

Denmark's face paled. "T-These lyrics…he's not singing to _**Oji-san**_, is he?"

"This song is a tribute to a dead friend," Sweden pointed out coldly.

"…Oh." Denmark sighed in relief.

"_Driving down the road I stop to listen…" _Iceland continued, mustering as much enthusiasm as he could. _"I hear your laughter in the trees! Your whisper in the breeze—my love is you!"_

Denmark quickly looked at Sweden. "Are you _sure_ this isn't about _Oji-san_?"

"…Your question is offensive," Sweden said.

"L-Let's just enjoy the song," Finland pleaded.

"'_Cause no one! Knows his where or when! When my time on earth…comes to an end! Then I'll find you…and I know that you will be my love again!"_

"Hey, this ain't too bad!" America said, joining the rhythmic clapping. "At least he's not singing about _eating dolphins_!" he glared pointedly at Japan.

Japan rubbed at his head. "When have _I _ever sung about _that_?"

"He's got a point—" Pakistan said.

"DON'T TALK TO ME!" America snapped over his shoulder.

"You're being annoying, aru!" China snapped back.

"_I'm coming home."_

The audience cheered with the end of the song as Iceland politely bowed before hurrying offstage. Everyone quickly checked their scores.

"Oh, my goodness!" Hungary cried out as she checked her phone. "I gave Iceland a perfect score!"

"I didn't score him," Austria checked.

"Me, either," Germany said. Before he put his phone away, it buzzed again. "Ah, Italy sent me another text message."

"Why not go out there and sit with him if you're going to correspond?" Austria asked.

Germany blushed and ducked his head. "Uh…I…"

"Four points," Portugal said.

"Five," Romano read.

"Yay, we scored again!" Italy cheered. "Ah, and Germany sent me a text message!"

Romano pretended to throw up.

"Ten," Switzerland read.

"Four," England said.

"No one else scored him?" France observed, tucking away his phone. "Poor boy…perhaps I ought to _comfort_ him?" he cackled to himself.

"T-The Nordics undoubtedly gave him high marks," Canada said. "So I-I don't think he needs much comfort…" he trailed off as he felt his pocket buzz. He pulled out his cell phone to check his messages. When he saw the message there he quickly stood up. "I-I'm sorry, but I must go."

"Go? Where?" Poland asked.

"Just—I'll be right back." Canada turned to leave, but then turned back to France. "Can you please save my seat, France?"

France grinned at him. "Anything for you, Mattie."

"T-Thanks." Canada quickly hurried up the aisle. "What could he want _now_, Mr. Kumasami?"

"Who are you?" Mr. Kumajirou asked.

"I'm Canada!"

France laughed loudly as he spread himself into Canada's seat. "I shall…_gladly_ guard it." He cooed to himself and rubbed his upper body all over the seat.

"I…don't think that's what he had in mind," Lithuania said painfully.

* * *

><p>Iceland gasped as he ran backstage. <em>It's over. It's over with…<em>

He rounded a corner, and almost walked straight into Mr. Puffin. His bird had a water bottle in his beak, and a hand towel in his claws. He dropped both into Iceland's hands. "_Takk_." He gulped the water and draped the towel around his neck. "I'm tired…" he began to nurse his sweaty cheek with the towel's edge. "At least my boss is leaving me alone now…"

An arm slid around his waist. Iceland stiffened as he was pulled to the side and crushed up against a large body. His head was fitted into a throat, under a chin. But, he could smell spice…and tobacco. And his body relaxed. He could hear a squawk from Mr. Puffin before the bird discreetly flew away.

A free hand reached up to cup his cheek. "My judge didn't score you. I'm sorry."

Iceland sighed. "It's really no problem. We don't really have many foreign relations with each other, do we _Oji-san_?"

"…True." A long finger trailed alongside his cheek, and to his chin. Iceland shivered involuntarily. "But, you still gave a good performance, _Bocchan_."

"Y-You were watching?" Iceland leaned back slightly to look up at his face.

"Hmm." Turkey withdrew his hand from Iceland's cheek and slowly took his mask off, revealing his dark, intense eyes. "I came back here to give Azer encouragement, but I was looking for you too. It's a shame I couldn't see you before you went onstage."

"_J-Já_. I was a little…preoccupied." Iceland remembered the injured unicorn then, and shuddered slightly.

"But I wasn't going to miss _your_ performance," Turkey continued. "Not by a long shot, _Bocchan_."

"_T-Takk_," Iceland stammered. He could feel his heart-rate accelerating. "And Azerbaijan did a good job, too."

"I know." Turkey suddenly pulled him into a tighter embrace. "_Ama_, let's stop talking about my sister, hmm?"

"A-Are you sure you want to hug me?" Iceland asked, his face muffled against Turkey's shoulder. "I'm really sweaty right now…"

Turkey chuckled softly. "When you get to be my age, _Bo-chan_." He breathed the word across Iceland's scalp. "You do not become bothered by such…_minor_ things."

"I-I see." Iceland could feel his face turning red and he burrowed it into Turkey's shoulder in embarrassment. "Well…thank you for cheering for me, _Oji-san_. A-And I'm not bothered you didn't score me…"

"Ah, but _I_ am." Turkey released Iceland, but only a little bit. He cupped his face once more and forced the younger country to look at him. "How might I make this up to you?"

Iceland flushed even darker, and tried to advert his gaze. But Turkey wouldn't let him turn his head. "Ah…I…"

"What's going on?"

"AH!" Iceland screamed, spinning around. Turkey was startled too, and released Iceland and quickly put his mask back on.

The Nordics. ALL of them were standing there, with the exceptions of Sealand and Åland. And most of them looked extremely confused. Denmark's face was an array of emotions. Norway looked stone-faced. And Sweden looked neutral.

"G-G-Guys!" Iceland cried out, raising his hands. "What are you doing back here?"

"We came to l-look for you," Faroe stammered. "You looked upset onstage, so we…"

"W-What is this?" Finland asked, motioning to them. "Why were you hugging Turkey, Iceland? And why was he about to kiss you?"

"H-He wasn't about to kiss me!" Iceland insisted. "We were just innocently talking!"

"Then how come you were hanging all over each other and your face is so red it looks sun-burned?" Greenland asked blandly.

Iceland slapped his hands over his cheeks and his body shook. "I…uh…"

"L-Look," Turkey said, laughing awkwardly. "This isn't what it—"

"_MIN GUD_!" Denmark shrieked suddenly, startling everyone. His face was ashen, and his hand trembled violently as he pointed at Turkey. "It's you! **YOU**! _You're Oji-san_!"

Finland cried out, and covered his mouth. Sweden didn't react whatsoever. Iceland looked at Norway, but his brother still looked expressionless. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

"Suddenly, it makes sense," Greenland said, folding his arms over his chest.

"_Oji-san_ is what Iceland calls me," Turkey said, sensing danger in this situation. "And I call him _Bocchan_—"

Denmark burst out with the most hysterical wailing in the world. He cupped his hands to his face and fell to his knees, screaming out profound grief. "_Nej_! _Nej, nej, nej, __**NEJ**_! Ice is so innocent…why must this happen?"

"You guys are overreacting!" Iceland cried out. "W-We—"

"He's so much OLDER than you are, Ice!" Denmark continued to scream. "And for you…for you to turn into such a _pervert_!" he choked on a sob. "I never knew you to be so LECHEROUS!"

"…Haaa?" Iceland wheezed out, his embarrassment mounting.

"Pervert?" Finland demanded sharply. "Why is _Iceland_ the pervert? If anything, this is _clearly_ Turkey's fault!"

"Now wait a minute!" Turkey snapped. He was starting to quickly see Iceland's reluctance in telling his family anything. "I'm NOT a pervert!"

"W-Why would Iceland want to date Turkey?" Faroe asked meekly, fiddling with her hands. "T-Turkey _is_ much older than him…and they don't even have close foreign relations. I-It doesn't make sense."

Greenland shrugged. "Turkey must be good in bed."

"Greenland!" Faroe cried out, mindful of the whispers breaking out between onlookers behind them.

"GREENLAND!" Iceland screamed, almost ready to advance upon the other country.

"W-W-W-We…" Denmark sputtered and hiccupped on his sobs, scrubbing at his messy face with both hands. "We must call a family meeting!_ Ja_! For our sweet and innocent Ice to turn into such a _sex fiend_, it must be SOMEBODY'S FAULT!"

"_**I'm not a sex fiend**_!" Iceland hollered. "God, I hate you _so much_ Denmark!"

It was then that Norway reacted. The stoic Nordic country rushed forward, taking everyone off-guard. His movements even stopped Denmark's sobbing as he reached his hands out and closed them around a throat.

_Iceland's_ throat.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?" Norway shrieked uncharacteristically, wringing Iceland's neck. "_ER DU GAL_? _ER DU DUM_?"

"NORWAY!" Finland cried out. He rushed to Norway's side. "Let him go, please! This isn't the way to handle this!"

"Guh—hukk—" Iceland garbled.

"…Whoa," Greenland said slowly. "So _here's_ the rage Norway's been keeping in!"

"Stop it, Norway!" Faroe wailed.

"He kidnapped you!" Norway continued to scream, ignoring Finland and Faroe and strangling his younger brother mercilessly. "He took you far away from us when you were a child! He held you for _ten years_! _**TI ÅR**_!" he screamed the words, not caring that a large crowd of people was watching all of this. "We thought we would never see you again! And then you do _this_? Have you no sense?"

* * *

><p>"<strong>During a two week period of July 4th to July 19th, 1627, Turkish pirates landed on the shores of Iceland looking for rare, exotic items to trade with the far East. When they found nothing materially of value outside of some hides and fish, they kidnapped 400 Icelanders over a period of time and took them home with them to sell them as slaves. These incidents became known as the 'Turkish Abductions'. It took 10 years for Denmark, part of the Denmark-Norway alliance, to reach a compromise with the Ottoman Empire about the return of the civilians. In the end, the Ottoman Empire gave back roughly only a dozen of the captured Icelanders."<strong>

* * *

><p>"Norway, PLEASE calm down!" Finland pleaded with him. "You're going to kill him!"<p>

"Ice…oh, Ice…" Denmark whimpered, seemingly oblivious to Norway strangling Iceland.

Turkey didn't quite know what to make of this situation. He self-consciously took a step back, but then he felt something brush against his back. _**"Hvor tror du du kommer?"**_

"WAGH!" Turkey screamed, spinning around to see Norway's green troll grinning wickedly at him. "_NE SIKTIR_?"

In the midst of the chaos, Sweden watched in silence. Then, he slowly turned around and walked away.

* * *

><p>"…Keeps ganging up on me," Prussia muttered mournfully. He hugged Mr. Kumajirou to his chest, while the bear hugged him back neutrally. He was fiddling with his laptop, trying to find the finale footage. "It's not fair…"<p>

"Germany must be stressed," Canada said, trying to place a bandage on Prussia's bruised cheek. But Prussia kept moving about angrily, which made this difficult. "When people are stressed, they take it out on the people closest to them." He sighed quietly. "You should see America when _he's_ stressed…"

"It's his own fault," Prussia insisted. "He could've fought that stupid song, but he didn't! Who would blame me for not wanting to sing it?"

"But you _did _promise him," Canada reminded him quietly. "That's what must upset him the most."

Prussia shrugged it off. "Well, I'm keeping my promise for the finale, anyways. Ah, here it is!" he clicked on the video on YouTube.

"…Finale?" Canada asked slowly.

"_Ja_, it's totally awesome! We're going to knock the socks off all Europe!" Prussia watched as the video loaded. "I just need to memorize the lyrics…"

"So…you don't know those either?" Canada asked.

"_Hola_, Gilbert!" Spain called out as he walked passed them. He was dressed very fashionably in a silk white shirt and white pants. "Wish me luck!"

"Wait, you're next?" Prussia sputtered. He jumped to his feet and shoved Mr. Kumajirou back into Canada's arms. "Hang on, I'm coming! See you later, Canada!"

"W-What about memorizing the finale?" Canada cried out after him. But Prussia didn't look back.

Canada sighed, and started the video himself. "He'll never change, will he Mr. Kumajuno?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada!"

* * *

><p>"Spain-nii-san is next!" Italy cheered, clapping his hands.<p>

Romano scoffed. "Who cares?"

"He gave you a perfect score," Portugal pointed out snidely. "At least show some enthusiasm for your lov—"

"SHUT UP!"

"I wonder if he'll have another stage-crasher this year," America asked.

"…Why do you sound _hopeful_?" England asked.

"Good luck!" Prussia cheered.

"_Gracias mi amigo_," Spain said cheerfully. "I just _love_ singing this song, so I'm really going to enjoy this performance!" his smile broadened even more. "And I hope Romano likes it too…"

"Just hop off the stage and serenade him again if you want to be sure!" Prussia laughed.

"He's sitting _inside_ the row and not on the aisle though." Spain shrugged and turned. "Well, here I go!"

Spain hurried onto the stage. After a moment, Prussia scratched at his head. "Was I supposed to be doing something?"

The arena darkened once more, and Italy hopped up and down in his seat. "Spain-nii-san!"

"Ugh, you're annoying me!" Romano snapped, rubbing at his face.

"But aren't _you_ existed, Nii-san? Spain-nii-san and you after all are—"

"Enough, just shut up!"

"—closer," Italy finished innocently.

"_Sim, closer_," Portugal punctuated, and France laughed.

Before Romano could respond, music rose from the stage once more. Dancers dressed in white danced cheerfully around Spain, who looked quite happy as usual. _"Whoa-oh oh, whoa-oh! Whoa-oh oh, whoa-oh! Ahora que me quiten, que me quiten lo bailao!"_

Spain happily danced around the stage with his backup dancers. He was always quite the dancer, after all. _"Me pellizco! Cada día! Pienso que suerte la mía! No estoy soñando! Es realidad!"_

Spain suddenly pointed at a _very _specific section of the audience. _"Vivo como! En una nube! Tengo lo que nunca tuve! Te tengo a ti! Y todo lo que ma das!"_

Romano stiffened, feeling that that finger was directed _right _at him! Italy obliviously glanced at him. "Why did Spain-nii-san point at us?"

"_Whoa-oh oh, whoa-oh! Whoa-oh oh, whoa-oh! Ahora que me quiten, que me quiten lo bailao!"_ Spain sang out with energy and cheer, dancing merrily around. _"Whoa-oh oh, whoa-oh! Whoa-oh oh, whoa-oh! Ahora que me quiten, que me quiten lo bailao!"_

"Aww, he's not going to jump off the stage?" America asked. Romano flinched.

"Germany-san already did that anyways," Japan said.

Spain suddenly knelt at the edge of the stage, facing the section where the countries sat. _"Junto a ti cada momento! Es sublime el sentimiento!"_ he gestured very specifically and winked. _"Sin miedo! A lo que ha de venir! No me curare en salud! Ni me cargaré una cruz! Disfruto todo ta y como eres tu!"_

"Hmm…" Portugal leaned forward in his seat to address Romano. "Sounds like he's sending a message."

"I _don't_ speak Spanish," Romano said flatly, adverting his gaze. It was very obvious now. Spain was attempting—and terribly—to sing his stupid song to him! It was so embarrassing!

"Maybe Spain-nii-san should come down into the audience again!" Italy said, clapping his hands to the music.

…Okay. This wasn't as embarrassing as _that_.

"_Me siento tan bien! Me siento tan bien!"_ Spain sang out, joining his dancers once more. _"Que no no no no lo voy estropear!"_ he spun one of the women around. _"Pensando en negative más!"_

Romano sputtered indignantly. "He makes a show out of singing to me and then he prances around with a fucking _girl_?"

"Oh?" Poland asked playfully. "He _was_ singing to you?"

"_Romano est jaloux_!" France howled with laughter.

"_Sim, sim_!" Portugal joined in.

"_CHIUDI QUELLA CAZZO DI BOCCA_!" Romano hollered at the top of his lungs. "Who would get jealous over a _shitty_ song like this?"

"_Whoa-oh oh, whoa-oh! Whoa-oh oh, whoa-oh!"_ Spain sang on obliviously. _"Ahora que me quiten, que me quiten lo bailao! Whoa-oh oh!"_

"At least nobody interfered this year," France said, his tone a little more serious now.

Spain's song finished smoothly and without a hitch. He bowed and shouted love and praises to the audience. As he left the stage though, he blew a kiss towards the audience…and _at_ Romano! Romano simply muttered a few curse words and hid his face.

"My judge didn't score you," Prussia said reluctantly.

Spain shrugged. "That's okay. I had a lot of fun out there and I hope everyone else enjoyed it!"

"_Ja_, all that energy and the audience was—_SCHEIßE_!" Prussia hollered suddenly.

"W-What is it?" Spain sputtered.

"The finale! I'm supposed to be watching the video, and—CANADA!" Prussia took off running. "Canada, where are you?"

Spain stared after him before he shook his head. "Gilbert sure is acting weirdly. Ah, well…"

"Perfect score," Portugal said smugly.

"ME TOO!" France cheered, leaping over the row to hug his longtime friend. "_D'amour pour Antonio_!"

"Four points," Estonia said.

"Three," Switzerland said blandly.

"Five!" Albania cheered.

"I didn't score him," England said. Many other countries seated with him echoed the sentiment.

Romano sighed heavily, and yanked out his cell phone. "Let's see the score we gave to this crappy…" he opened the text, and his whole body tensed.

"What score did you give him?" Portugal prodded. "We know you already gave Romania your perfect score?"

Romano was silent for a long time. Slowly, he swallowed thickly.

Italy flipped open his own phone. He saw his own text and screamed. "_NO_! ZERO POINTS? We didn't score Spain-nii-san!"

"Eh?" Latvia cried out. "And after he gave you both a _perfect score_?"

"It's not them, though," Poland pointed out. "It's, like, totally their judge who did it."

"Ah, who cares?" Romano snapped, recovering from his perceived shock and stuffing his phone back into his pocket. "His song sucks, so he _deserves_ zero points!"

"…He's going to be _soooooo_ mad…" Italy whimpered.

* * *

><p>"Uh…Sadiq?" Azerbaijan said slowly, approaching the couch Turkey sat on cautiously. "What is <em>that<em>?"

Turkey sat on the couch with his head in his hands. Beside him, Norway's green troll was grinning toothily and poking him incessantly in the shoulder. _**"Kom nå, gi meg alle detaljene. Er den lille broren lidenskapelige i senga? Beskriv for meg lydene han gjorde når dere to elsket."**_

"My living hell," Turkey said savagely. "_That's_ what it is!"

* * *

><p>I'm so sorry, Iceland! I think I have <em>way<em> too much fun torturing him, lol!

I'm sorry if Azerbaijan sounded a little too Gary Stu in this chapter. But if you know the results of Eurovision already, you can probably see why I wanted to embellish on her a little bit. –wink–

- I decided to do a lot more with Bulgaria in this story because I completely ignored his existence in _Sing to Me_, though he's a canon character. I hope you guys don't mind.

- The unicorn thing was blatantly ripped from the video game _Suikoden 2_. You can recruit a unicorn named Sigfried, but he will only join you so long as you have a 'Fair Maiden' in your party he can marry.

- Poland's Prime Minister, Lech Kaczyński, died in a plane crash in Russia on April 10, 2010. Four days later Iceland's volcano, Eyjafjallajökull (try saying that five times fast), erupted and spewed volcanic ash that covered most of Northern Europe. So not only was the news coverage of Kaczyński's death eclipsed by this natural disaster, but hardly any foreign dignitaries could attend his funeral because air travel was suspended. I brought up the Eyjafjallajökull eruption because nine days after the end of Eurovision another Icelandic volcano, Grímsvötn, erupted, though that ash spread to Greenland, lol.

Here's the English translation for Spain's song, as can be found at Eurovision's website:

"Now nobody can take away, take away the good times I've had

"I pinch myself every day, thinking how lucky I am  
>I'm not dreaming, it's reality<br>I live like on a cloud, I have what I never had  
>I've got you, you, and everything you give me<p>

"Even though I know that storms are to come and I will fall  
>But in the end, I've already enjoyed the good times I've had<p>

"Now nobody can take away, take away the good times I've had  
>Now nobody can take away, take away the good times I've had<p>

"Each moment with you, that feeling is sublime  
>With no fear of what is to come<br>I won't take precautions, nor will I carry any crosses  
>I enjoy everything, just as you are<p>

"Even though I know that storms are to come and I will fall  
>But in the end, I've already enjoyed the good times I've had<p>

"Now nobody can take away, take away the good times I've had  
>Now nobody can take away, take away the good times I've had<p>

"I feel so good, I feel so good  
>No no no no I am not going to spoil it<br>By negative thinking

"I know that storms are to come and I will fall  
>But in the end, I've already enjoyed the good times I've had<p>

"Now nobody can take away, take away the good times I've had  
>Now nobody can take away, take away the good times I've had"<p> 


	7. Ukraine, Serbia, Georgia

Sorry for the delay. This one took a little longer than I thought it would, lol.

Chapter 7

It was unsurprising that word spread very fast.

"Hey, wow!" Hungary cheered, holding up her cell phone. "I just got the _craziest_ text message from Po-chan!"

"About what?" Austria asked reluctantly.

"Turkey and _ICELAND_?" America hollered.

"I hear someone talking about it backstage," Poland said, tucking his phone away. "I guess they were, like, totally making out or something."

"They were _snogging_?" England gasped, making a face. "Ugh, where is the sense of decency?"

"And the Nordics totally caught them and stuff," Poland added.

"No wonder Norway looks so upset," Lithuania said.

Japan rubbed at his forehead uncomfortably. "Is _this_ what Norway-san was talking about? _D-Demo_, Turkey-san didn't let on that he knew anything when Norway-san questioned me."

"He…is good at hiding," Greece said darkly. "Nobody should be surprised by this."

"_Absolutely_ not," Cyprus added. "I mean they aren't close with world relations, but when has that ever stopped Turkey?"

"But it looks like little Iceland got _plenty_ of comfort after his performance!" France laughed.

Austria stared blankly at Hungary's text message. "I…don't quite know what to make of this."

"You're not the only one," Germany muttered, looking towards the green room door. "If Aniki ran out on me again…"

"And I gave that boy my perfect score!" Hungary laughed. "But Turkey can be quite _outlandish_. I hope Iceland can handle him!"

"Who had comfort?" Canada asked quietly as he approached. "A-And, uh, thank you for saving my seat, France."

"No problem." Though France reluctantly moved to his own seat. "It's just that Turkey and Iceland were caught in the throes of _passion_ backstage!"

"T-T-Throes of…" Canada's whole face turned red as he took his seat. "They were _having sex_?"

"_Nie_, just lip-locking apparently," Poland said. "The Nordics caught them before it went any further. Although…"

"…Although what?" Lithuania asked very reluctantly.

"Somebody said that Greenland said that Turkey was good in bed."

"Turkey had sex with HIM too?" Cyprus cried out.

Albania laughed lightly. "Turkey has always been able to get around!"

"_Nie_, not like that," Poland said sharply. "I guess Iceland told Greenland that Turkey was good in bed!"

"Eww!" America whined. "Why would Iceland BRAG about that?"

"Who _wouldn't_ brag about a good lay?" France laughed.

Romano and Japan sputtered violently. America looked at his close friend in alarm. "What's wrong, Japan? Are you choking on something?"

In front of him, Greece laughed very discreetly.

"Oh, my God…" Canada buried his face into Mr. Kumajirou's head. "Why is this conversation occurring?"

France laughed again. "I guess I could go on about _my_ encoun—"

"NO!" most everyone screamed around him.

_Several_ rows ahead of them, the Nordics were trying and failing to ignore the gossip.

"Just keep these pressed to your neck," Finland soothed, gently arranging wet cloths around the purpling bruises on Iceland's throat. "The swelling should go down in a few hours. And you should be able to speak again, too."

Iceland wheezed out pitifully, looking angry and frustrated.

"Honestly, why is any of this a surprise?" Sealand asked, playing on his Nintendo DS. "They both saved each other and helped each other during the Christmas nightmare with the shadow people!"

"Sealand, that was just a dream," Finland reprimanded him.

"Then how do you explain their hookup?" Sealand asked.

Finland shook his head. "Let's talk about something else, _please_?"

Denmark was no longer crying, but he looked morose. Sweden still looked neutral. Norway however was slumped in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and glaring murderously into the back of the seat in front of him.

"…But these things _are _possible, though," Sealand said thoughtfully. "It sort of reminds me of _Love Mode_."

Greenland lurched, and sat straight up in his seat. "You read _**YAOI**_?"

Sealand realized what he said and his face turned red. "N-N-N-No, never! I would _never_ read _yaoi_!"

"Then how do you know what _Love Mode_ is?" Greenland shook his head. "Ugh, I can't believe you read Japanese gay porn! You've got _two dads_, anyways!"

"…We had two dads too," Faroe said quietly.

Seborga shrieked with laughter. "Sealand reads _yaoi_! Oh, this is rich!" he looked over his shoulder at Wy. "Did you hear that?"

Wy shrugged. "I read _yaoi_ too."

Seborga's face fell. "Eh?"

"W-WHAT?" Australia shouted, gaping at his little sister in horror.

"What, did Sealand, like, totally raid your stash Latvia?" Poland asked.

Latvia screamed in horror and ducked underneath his seat, while Lithuania and Estonia just rolled their eyes.

"SHUT IT!" Sealand shouted, his whole face red. "I like _Naruto_ and _Bleach_, NOT _YAOI_!"

Sweden leaned forward suddenly in his seat and looked at them. "How," he said slowly. "Do _either_ of you know what _Love Mode_ or _yaoi _is?"

Greenland, too, seemed to realize what he'd been saying and turned red. "DRINKS!" he hollered, jumping to his feet. "Who wants drinks?"

"W-What?" Finland asked.

"…Mello Yello," Sealand mumbled.

"I'll have some water," Faroe said.

"Me too," Finland said. Iceland wheezed again, and feebly waved a hand.

"…Water," Sweden said.

"Just get me some alcohol," Denmark said quietly.

"I can't get alcohol, Denmark!" Greenland snapped. "I'll just get you a Mello Yello too! Norway?"

Norway said nothing, continuing to glare in front of him.

"Water it is!" Greenland said. "I'll be right back!"

Faroe watched him leave. She idly played with her hair. "Why is he so upset? They're just books…"

"_Vad är yaoi_?" Åland asked innocently.

"_Ingenting_!" Finland and Sweden shouted.

While Finland was distracted, Iceland pulled out his cell phone and sent out a text message. _"Want to hear something funny?"_

It didn't take too long before he got a response.

**Ireland (mobile)**

"_What is it?"_

* * *

><p>"We have the best song this year! There's <em>no way<em> we can lose!"

Ukraine looked at her reflection with a strained expression. "S…Sir?"

"What is it?" her boss came to her side.

"This dress…" Ukraine plucked at the skirt. "I don't know if it suits me."

"But it's a lovely dress!" her boss assured her. "And it's identical to what Mika Newton wears! You don't like it?"

"It's not that. It's just…" Ukraine trailed off hopelessly. It _was_ identical to what Mika Newton had chosen. But…Ukraine couldn't help but feel that Mika's dress had been more…modest. Even with the long off-white skirt her upper body felt too exposed. Her massive cleavage was almost entirely showing, and she felt no support in her breasts. What exactly could her boss be thinking to keep putting her in these outfits?

"Miss Ukraine?"

Ukraine looked over her shoulder, though she self-consciously covered herself with her hand. "Oh, Armenia?"

"_Lav_, I caught you before you went onstage." Armenia quickly came into the room. "I wanted to wish you good luck."

"Well that's very nice of you," Ukraine said. "Competition is very stiff this year, after all."

"I think you'll do well." Armenia held out his hand to her. "So…good luck."

"_Spasybi_." Ukraine accepted his handshake. But she stilled. _Eh?_

"I must go now," Armenia said quickly, pulling his hand away. "But we'll watch your performance, definitely!" Then he hurried from the room.

"What does he mean by 'we'?" her boss muttered. He shook his head and grabbed Ukraine's hand. "Let's go!"

Ukraine allowed herself to be pulled by her boss, because her focus was on the hand she shook with Armenia. In that hand she held a folded note. Careful to make sure her boss wasn't paying attention, she unfolded the note.

"_Good luck, Big Sister!"_

_- Russia_

Ukraine smiled at this. Even though contact with her brother was frowned upon, it _did_ make her feel good to know he was thinking of her.

"Sister."

Ukraine screamed with fright, and her boss stiffened. Ukraine's eyes peered to her left, where Belarus was glaring at her. "_T-T-Tak_?"

"Good luck."

"A-Ah…thank you."

Ukraine still felt frightened though, even after her boss pulled her away. _Belarus is just too scary…_

* * *

><p>"Ah," Poland said, reading the program. "The normal sibling is up next."<p>

"You mean Miss Ukraine?" Latvia asked. "Her performance was…_distracting_ last year…"

"She got tenth place," Estonia said. "So she's bound to get high marks again this year…"

"I really liked the sand art," Cyprus said. "I hope she does it again in this performance."

"Bloody hell, give it a rest!" England hollered, rubbing at his ears. "You've been at it for five minutes!"

He of course was referring to Ireland, who was laughing hysterically. She was waving her cell phone back and forth. "Just sod off and let me enjoy this!"

"Enjoy what?" Northern Ireland asked her.

Ireland only smiled at him. "It's a secret. Although…" she began cackling again. "It would appear that Norway is not as **UPTIGHT** as he used to be!"

Norway stiffened, and glared over his shoulder. He looked at Iceland, but his younger brother was still reclined in his seat and wheezing. Scoffing, Norway slumped back into his own chair.

"Who's uptight in _what_?" America asked loudly.

Before he got an answer about that from anyone, exotic music burst from the stage and the arena darkened. The television screen in the back of the stage was blank, but sand spilled across it and silhouetted hands began playing with it.

"_When you look into my eyes…World becomes a better place…"_ Ukraine sang into her microphone. She tried not to focus on a specific face in the audience so she wouldn't be more nervous. _"And you know deep inside! Love is taking all the space…"_

She thumped a hand against her chest. _"Baby—(__**ba dum!**__)—ve you…and you?"_

"…Uh oh," Latvia sighed.

Ukraine began swaying with the music. _"We are birds!—We f—(__**ba dum!**__)_ _high and we are falling—(__**ba DUM!**__)!"_ caught up in it, she began jerking her body around. _"When I—(__**BA DUM!**__) you—My dream are so fear(__**BA DUM!**__) We are people of the planet, we—(__**BA DUM!**__)"_

"…There she goes again," Poland said blandly. "She, like, totally gets into her song and her boobs make totally too much noise."

"Holy shit, look at that sand!" America hollered, pointing at the screen behind Ukraine, the silhouetted hands making intricate designs in the sand. "That's incredible!"

"It's sand outwork," England said, rubbing at his face. "It's certainly aesthetically pleasing…"

Ukraine continued to sing with all her heart, but there was no denying that the…_passion_ she put forth in the song also hindered her. _"When you loo—(__**BA DUM!**__) eyes…Sun is touching moun—(__**BA DUM!**__)"_

"Hey, that shape looks like a unicorn!" America shouted.

"HOW does that look like a unicorn?" England demanded.

Iceland choked, and Finland tended to him. "What's wrong, Iceland?"

"I could name a few things," Sweden muttered.

Ukraine finished her song and everyone cheered. She bowed deeply before she remembered the revealing top she wore, and awkwardly curtsied instead before hurrying offstage.

"Five," Cyprus said.

"Four," Estonia said thoughtfully.

"Seven," Portugal said.

"Five," San Marino said.

"Seven," Greece said slowly.

"Two," Ireland said, though she was still giggling to herself.

"Seven," Romano said blandly.

"You are _tres cruels_, Romano," France whimpered mockingly. "To give such a high score to a country you are not close to, but to give Antonio zero points!"

"Why the fuck are you blaming _me_?" Romano snapped. "_I _didn't score him!"

"Ah," Portugal said. "So if you _did _have control then you would've given him your perfect score?"

"No!" Romano snapped.

"I would give it to Germany!" Italy cheered.

"No we wouldn't!" Romano snapped, grabbing Italy by his collar. "So get that disgusting idea out of your head!"

"Nii-san, you're hurting me!" Italy wailed, his head flopping back and forth. "Don't you care that we didn't score Spain-nii-san?"

"Why the fuck should I care that I didn't vote for his shitty song? He _deserves _zero points from us!"

"…You didn't vote for my song."

Everyone jumped at this quiet but cold voice. Romano looked over his shoulder to see Spain standing in the aisle. The usually overly cheerful country looked incredibly upset.

"What do you want?" Romano asked harshly, though his fingers loosened around Italy's collar.

Spain's mouth formed a thin line. "You just said you didn't vote for me. I gave you a perfect score, and you didn't vote for me."

"_He_ didn't vote for you either!" Romano snapped, jabbing Italy with his finger. "And why are you pissed off anyways! Our judge selected the score!"

"…_Sí_," Spain said slowly. "_Pero_, you're showing no remorse for it."

"N-Now, Spain," Belgium said, rising to her feet. "Let's not—"

"Why should I show remorse?" Romano hollered. "It was a _shitty _song and a _shitty_ performance!"

"Nii-san, that's terrible!" Italy wailed.

"_Jezus_, don't you have a brain/mouth filter?" Netherlands complained loudly. "Granted it's _Spain_ you're insulting, but still!"

"Romano—" Portugal cut in, his tone full of warning.

It was too late. Spain jumped over the other countries in the row and reached for Romano. Romano jerked away. "Hey—!"

Spain's hand closed around his wrist and he pulled him out of the seat. "You're coming with me."

"Like hell I am!" Romano snapped, tugging at his arm. "Let me go, you bastard!"

Spain glared at him clearly. "I said you're coming with me."

Romano sputtered, but couldn't come up with a reply as Spain dragged him off.

"Take care now!" France called, waving with a handkerchief.

"You guys are going to miss Serbia's performance!" San Marino cried out after them.

"They aren't missing much," Albania muttered.

"That's not true!"

"Eh…why is Spain-nii-san angry at Nii-san?" Italy said slowly. "Nii-san didn't make the score…he should be angry with our judge."

"True," Poland said smugly. "But then what's the _fun_ in that?"

"Feliks!" Lithuania sputtered.

The arena darkened once more. Albania took the opportunity to jump to his feet. "**BOO! **_JU THITH! DËSHTIMI! __**TRULLOS**_!"

"Come now, that's inappropriate and immature!" San Marino cried.

"…I'm _definitely_ changing the locks on my house," Greece complained quietly.

* * *

><p>"<em>Wow<em>!" Armenia gasped when he saw his phone. "I gave Miss Ukraine my perfect score!"

"That was very nice of you," Russia said. He didn't add that he was pleased Armenia didn't give his perfect score to _Georgia_ this year. "I gave her ten points."

"Eh?" Armenia looked over his shoulder at him. "Not a perfect score? Then who got your perfect score, Russia?"

"Ah…" Russia forced a smile and laughed. "No one…kolkolkol…"

"Ten points."

Russia stiffened at this voice, but Armenia approached the door to see Belarus shoving her cell phone in Ukraine's face. "Ah, there she is! You can tell her the score you gave her!"

"I don't think her boss would appreciate that," Russia said sourly.

* * *

><p>"<em>PËRBINDËSH! DEMONI! <em>_**NJERI I PRISHUR**_!"

Serbia could hear Albania's mindless shouting even as he took the stage. He sighed heavily. _Just focus on the damn song…_

"I'm back!" Greenland cheered, armful of bottles of water and Mello Yello. "Who had what?"

"Denmark and I had Mello Yellos!" Sealand said, taking his and gulping it down. _At least that…__**yaoi**__ subject is a dead one…_

"Here, try to drink some water," Finland said, offering it to Iceland.

"His _Onii-chan_ should be doing that," Sweden said coldly. "He did that to him, after all."

Norway ripped the water bottle out of Sweden's held out hand and angrily chugged it down.

The peppy sixties-esque music blasted through the arena and bright colors burst from the screen behind him. _"Ciča zima i svud je prokleti led. Baš sam imala težak dan…"_

"Whoa, I'm having trippy flashbacks," America said.

"Woo-hoo, Serbia!" San Marino cheered.

"_Zot_, don't cheer for him!" Albania snapped, no longer his cheerful self.

"I can cheer for him if I want to!"

"Ve…" Italy nervously looked over his shoulder. "Where did Nii-san and Spain-nii-san go off to?"

"They're, like, probably have an _adult conversation_," Poland said.

"Feliks—" Lithuania began.

"Well, they took a shower together already," Italy said thoughtfully.

"**W-W-W-WHAT**?" Seborga shrieked.

* * *

><p>"<em>I istog trena vredium kao hiljadu žena! Jer njemu sam lepa! I jaka ko stena!"<em>

Romano shoved hard against Spain's shoulders, finally succeeding in getting the other country to let him go. "Just get off me! What the fuck's the matter with you throwing these idiotic temper tantrums? Did _I _throw a shit-fit when you only gave me EIGHT POINTS in 1997?"

Spain's head remained low. "I'm…not angry about the score."

"The hell you aren't! What the fuck are we doing back here if—"

Spain reached out and grabbed Romano by the front of his shirt. "Three years, now."

Romano blinked. "Huh?"

"For the past three years now, I've dedicated my songs to _you_. Sure, I personally don't pick the songs but when the lyrics suit my feelings. Yet you…" Spain leaned forward to rest his forehead against Romano's chest. "You continue to mock me and belittle me."

Romano scoffed. "If you weren't such a fucking sissy, then I wouldn't mock you! And how am I supposed to know what the fuck's in those lyrics? I don't speak Spanish!"

"How can you not know Spanish?" Spain demanded. "I poured many hours into teaching it to you! And our languages are practically _identical_!"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Romano snapped. He could feel frustration building inside him, but he knew it wasn't from feeling annoyed by Spain's behavior. "Want me to fawn over your songs like a _fucking girl_? Or would you rather hear honesty, _bastardo_?"

"I want you to tell me I did a _good job_!" Spain thumped his forehead against his chest. "Do I ask a lot from you, Romano? I accept your insults and physical abuse, and I even accepted your half-hearted confession to me! But _why_ is it easier for you to say 'you suck' than 'good effort'? Do you have any idea how much that _hurts _me?"

Romano blinked very slowly. This was very much unlike Spain at all. "I-I'm not the only saying your songs su—"

"You think I give a damn what a bunch of strangers _on the internet_ say about my entries? I really…take too much from you." Spain laughed sadly. "Especially when you don't take my feelings seriously…"

"…Haa?" Romano slowly rubbed a hand over his own face before anger snapped through him. "I know you're a fucking idiot, but are you really THAT DENSE?"

"How am—"

"If I wasn't taking your feelings seriously, would I even be having sex with you?" Romano yelled. He started strangling Spain. "Would I put up with all the embarrassing things you put me through? What about when you proposed to me? Did I tell you to fuck off? _**NO**_! Don't go presuming what my feelings are!"

Spain gurgled, and Romano let him go. He took the moment to cough and catch his breath before he looked at him. But…his eyes were shining. "Then…you _do_ take me seriously?"

"_No_," Romano snapped. "But I'm still standing here, aren't I? If I didn't want your attention, even with those shitty songs of yours, I wouldn't hang around you! But I put up with it, because it IS you! Fuck!" Romano scrubbed a hand through his own hair. "_Why_ do I have to say such embarrassing shit?"

Spain blinked very slowly. "I…did I do a good job tonight?"

Romano's glared deepened. "_No_, but you did you best so what does it matter?"

Spain squealed, and threw his arms around him. "Romano! _Mi amor_! You have no idea how good it feels to hear you praise me!"

"I didn't praise you!" Romano snapped. "It was just—"

"_Mi corazón y mi alma! ¡Te quiero!_" Spain planted a deep kiss on his mouth.

Even now, it was difficult to argue with Spain when he was such an _amazing_ kisser. Amongst other things. Unable to help himself, Romano dug his fingers into the back of Spain's shirt, groaning throatily.

A small yellow bird slowly flew around their heads, chirping enthusiastically. Startled, they broke the kiss and idly watched Gilbird circle around them three times before flying back towards the door.

"Oh, don't stop because of us."

Romano screamed, and violently shoved Spain away from him. "W-What the _fuck_?"

Prussia cackled loudly as Gilbird came to rest on his head. "Oh, this is too rich! I was hoping to see Italy, but seeing his uptight grumpy brother sucking face with Spain is good enough!"

"_L'amour_…" France cooed, chuckling into a rose. "It is always so _sweet_ to view…"

"_CAZZO STRONZI!_" Romano hollered. He lunged at France. "I've had to put up with enough of your _perverted shit_ for centuries! I'm NOT putting up with it now!"

"Um—" Spain said helplessly.

"ANIKI!"

Prussia flinched as Germany advanced upon him and grabbed his collar. "Do you have the finale memorized?"

"Chill, West!" Prussia complained as his head whipped back and forth from Germany's shaking. Romano on the other hand was fully strangling France. "I got it down!"

"Really? Then when do you come in during the song?"

"Uh—ah—"

"YOU DON'T KNOW!"

Spain watched all of this with a light laugh. "Come now, guys…" his pocket buzzed and he checked the score he gave to Serbia. "Ah, zero points…"

* * *

><p>"We gave you ten points," Herzegovina said, smiling at Serbia.<p>

"_Hvala_," Serbia said blandly.

"There was quite a bit of commotion from the audience," Bosnia said, smirking. "Was that Albania heckling you?"

Serbia shrugged. "I don't care."

"Eight points," Macedonia read, showing Serbia his phone.

"I also gave you eight points," Croatia said.

"Ten points," Slovenia said, checking his watch. "Is the show over yet?"

"Two points," Finland read.

"…Six," Norway almost snarled the score.

"Six points," Poland said.

"F-Five," Lithuania said.

"I gave him five points too!" San Marino cheered. He jumped to his feet and waved his hand. "Serbia! I gave you five points! _Five points_!"

"Ugh," Seborga groaned, rubbing at his forehead.

"I gave him three points," Italy said. He looked over his shoulder once more. "Where's Nii-san?"

"_Why_ do you want to know?" Seborga demanded.

"_**JO**_!" Albania shrieked, jumping to his feet. "This can't be happening!"

"What score did you give him?" Greece asked reluctantly.

"One point! ONE POINT!" Albania screamed with rage and raked a hand through his hair. "This is _awful_! That bastard deserves _nothing_ from me! I'd rather give one point to a _troll _over him!"

"Why are you so angry?" San Marino asked.

"Why do you _think_ I am?"

"I…think I saw a troll scurrying underneath the seats," Cyprus said.

"Blood hell, Norway!" England shouted. "Get over yourself and get rid of these creatures!"

Norway didn't respond to the shout. But he snapped his teeth and burrowed himself deeper in the seat.

"Just one more performance left, right?" Denmark asked obliviously.

"…Right," Sweden said slowly. "It's Georgia."

* * *

><p>Georgia sighed neutrally. "So I'm last to go tonight…"<p>

"You'll do fine."Azerbaijan smiled at him. "I have a pretty good feeling about tonight, and I know you're going to give a great performance like you usually do."

"You'll be getting a perfect score from me."

Georgia jumped a little and looked over his shoulder at Belarus. "Is that so?"

Belarus nodded. "I've not given out my perfect score yet. That means my judge deliberately saved it for you." she cackled to herself. "That's what Big Brother gets for ignoring me…"

"I already gave my perfect score to Ukraine," Azerbaijan said, smiling apologetically. "But I know I'll give you a high score regardless."

Turkey stormed over to them, muttering various curse words in his native tongue. Northern Cyprus trailed after him, gaping at Turkey's "companion". "Is it real? Is it really real?"

"_**Vennligst ikke holde tilbake detaljer,"**_ the green troll cooed at Turkey. _**"Var du forsiktig med lillebror for hans første gang? Hva lyder gjorde han gjøre? Stopp meg hvis man lyder det samme."**_The troll proceeded to make various grunting and groaning noises.

"So…it's not leaving you alone?" Azerbaijan asked. "What did you do to make Norway so angry, Sadiq?"

"_**Han tok den lille broren sin jomfrudom!"**_the green troll announced very cheerfully.

"I don't know," Turkey spat. "I just want to wish you good luck Georgia…and maybe hunt England down to _exercise_ this nuisance! It reminds me too much of that brat!"

Georgia blinked at the troll. "Wow…now I've seen everything."

* * *

><p>"<em>The final nation to perform tonight is Georgia!"<em>

America grumbled under his breath. "Stealing my state name…"

"I thought we already established that _you_ copied off _him_!" England snapped.

"Nii-san still isn't back yet," Italy said. "And neither is France-nii-san. What could they be talking about that takes this long?"

"Maybe they're having a _ménage à trois_!" Poland laughed.

"_FELIKS_!" Lithuania cried out, though Estonia snorted. "I doubt Romano would let France touch him _that_ way…"

Italy rubbed at his head in confusion. "I don't speak French…what does that mean?"

Before anyone could try and hazard answering _that_ question, the arena darkened for the final performance. Georgia took his position onstage, looking out over the audience. _I want to do better than Russia. It would be nice if I won, but I definitely want to place higher than Russia!_

He signaled to the band he was ready and took a deep breath. The music washed over the arena and he raised the microphone. _"After the day I met you, there I am…not the same. Try to sleep, but nothing helps me…feel insane."_

Georgia stepped forward a little. He was usually a calm person, so this song was bringing out more of him than he usually expressed. _"Passion game that I play…gonna last…one more day…One more night, I'll be there…in my dreams again…and again!_

"_I wanna give in to fire! Uncover vicious desire! Abandon painful denial! Find pretty reason to stay!" _Ghmert'i_, who wrote this?_ he asked himself for the umpteenth time. _"One more forbidden sensation! One more emotional flare! Down with fake hesitation! Hell yeah, I'm ready to pay!"_

"So, who's going to win?" America asked.

"We don't know!" England snapped. "They haven't counted all the scores yet!"

"_**Var det "ahhh" eller "uuuh"?"**_ the troll continued to bother Turkey.

Turkey cursed and growled with rage. "I have to try and ditch this annoying _thing_! Tell Georgia I said he did a good job!"

"…All right," Azerbaijan said slowly as Turkey took off running, Northern Cyprus trailing after him.

"_Pay for the hopeless despair!"_ Georgia continued to bellow out. _"Gonna live one more day of my fate!"_

"Our finale is _right after_ they announce the winner!" Germany snapped. "Now do you have the song down?"

"_Ja, ja_," Prussia said, waving a dismissive hand. "We come up from the audience, and I join you after the first verse."

"…_Wunderbar_," Germany said hopefully. "And can you tell me _what_ the first verse is?"

Prussia froze. "Uh…"

_I'm starting to see why Romano got frustrated with Italy,_ Germany fumed to himself. _Though, Romano shouldn't have hit him…_

Georgia finished his song without a hitch, receiving many cheers. He bowed an hurried offstage as the scores were once again sent out.

"Ah," Lithuania said. "Here's my perfect score!"

"Three points," Estonia said.

"Nothing," Latvia said.

"Seven," Poland read.

"I didn't score him," Italy sighed. "We were really terrible with handing out scores this year, weren't we?"

"I gave him seven!" San Marino announced.

"…Seven," Norway said darkly. There was an odd edge to his voice though as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"That's all the performances, Norge!" Denmark said cheerfully. "Pretty soon we'll find out who won our wager!"

Norway glared at him, but Denmark continued regardless. "Of course, I know deep down how much you want to _lose_, so—ACK!"

Norway once again strangled him with his own tie. "_Hold kjeft_."

"…Why do you wear a tie when you know he strangles you with it when you say something stupid?" Sweden asked bluntly.

"_We will now have a thirty-minute intermission to tally up the scores!"_ the announcement came._ "In just a little while we will crown this year's winner!"_

"W-We'd better go," Finland said, helping Iceland to his feet.

Norway let Denmark go. "_Gå_."

"_i orden_," Denmark sputtered, though he grinned at Norway. "I look forward to the results!"

They watched the four Nordic countries depart. Greenland finally looked at Norway. "Are you ever going to tell us what that bet's all about?"

Norway glared at him. Greenland sighed. "All right…"

"I'd better go wake Hong Kong up, aru," China said, slowly standing up.

"He's playing _StarCraft_ in the suite," Taiwan said, holding up her phone. "He sent me a text message about it."

"Huh. I thought he was sleeping, aru."

"_STARCRAFT_?" England hollered. "How long has he been playing _StarCraft_?"

Taiwan shrugged. "An hour…or two."

England wailed, and hugged his head. "That internet usage will make the room bill skyrocket! And _I'm_ covering it!"

"…Maybe that was his intention," Pakistan muttered.

"I'll call him in any case, aru," China said, pulling out his cell phone.

As the Nordics walked away, Iceland's phone buzzed. Nursing his swollen neck with the wet towels, he checked his messages.

**Oji-san (mobile)**

"_I'm sorry to bother you, but Norway's troll will seriously not stop bothering me! He keeps repeating the same words over and over again too. What does '__**ta jomfrudommen**__' mean, anyways?"_

Iceland gaped in absolute horror at his phone. Finland looked at him over his shoulder. "What's wrong, Iceland?"

"…Nothing," Iceland managed to wheeze out, snapping his phone shut.

* * *

><p>"Perfect score," Belarus reported.<p>

Georgia laughed and nodded. "What I expected, of course!"

"I gave you ten!" Azerbaijan cheered, hugging him and showing him the score.

"_Gmadlobt'_, I really appreciate it." Georgia craned his head though as he realized the two women stood alone. Where's Turkey and the…_thing_?"

"Sadiq wanted to find a way to chase it off," Azerbaijan explained. "Hang on, I'll go find him." she took off running.

Georgia sighed, and smiled at Belarus. "It's almost the end of the show…"

"Ten points."

Georgia jumped slightly, and turned around. Armenia stood there, holding up his cell phone. "O-Oh, you gave me ten points? That was kind of you, Armenia."

Armenia snapped his phone shut and tucked it into his pocket. "I would've come to see you sooner, but I didn't want any…problems."

Georgia bristled very slightly. "I could say the same thing, Armenia."

"You." Belarus leaned over to Armenia. "Is my Big Brother nearby?"

"Uh…" Armenia looked uncomfortable to be under Belarus's scrutiny once more. "I'm…not sure."

"I'm sure he's in his green room," Georgia said, smiling at her. "Have you checked there?"

"…Not for awhile. I'll be right back." Quick as lightning, Belarus took off.

Georgia sighed, and rubbed at his forehead. "You're one of my closest friends, Armenia. It's never a problem for you to come over and see me."

Armenia squared his body. "Why does it offend you that I exercise caution around your _friends_? They're my _enemies_."

"Your relations involved _my_ enemies too," Georgia shot back. He sighed and shook his head. "I don't want to argue with you over this."

"…_Ayo_," Armenia sighed. "I prefer civil conversations with you, too."

"_Georgia_! I found Sadiq!"

Both countries nonetheless jumped Azerbaijan's shout. "Armenia—"

"Would you rather spend time with_ them_?" Armenia said harshly.

"I don't mean that—"

"Geor—AH!"

Georgia quickly turned around. Azerbaijan stood there, her face a mask of fury. Behind her stood Turkey, who looked incredibly uncomfortable. "_SİZE!_" she shouted, quickly advancing upon them.

"Azer—" Turkey tried to quell.

"Azerbaijan—" Georgia said.

"What do _you_ want?" Azerbaijan snapped at Armenia. "This area is for _finalists_, not losers who couldn't advance!"

Armenia snorted. "Then why is _Turkey_ here?" he spat out Turkey's name like it was a foul word. "And I could say enough about your crappy love song—"

"_Haramzadə_!" Azerbaijan tried to lunge at him, but Turkey physically restrained her. Georgia self-consciously took a step forward. "I refuse to be insulted by a pathetic _cry-baby_!"

"Azer—" Turkey tried to cut in.

"Whining, whining, _whining_! That's all you ever do!" Azerbaijan continued to scream. "You didn't get into the finals, SO WHAT? You're treating it like some kind of _mass conspiracy_ against you!" she suddenly laughed. "Maybe if your _socialized media _had actually listened to your citizens instead of deciding for _themselves _what the best song was for you, then you might've made it! Not that you could _ever_ do better than me anyways!"

"You're one to talk!" Armenia shouted all of a sudden. "Coming from the girl with the personality-cult government! And didn't you arrest _your own citizens_ for _daring_ to vote for me? Your insults are **CHEAP**!"

"Uh—um—guys—" Georgia said helplessly, caught having to restrain the two.

Armenia was about to yell more when a pair of hands caught his shoulders, and he was tugged backwards. "Is there a problem, _da_?"

The fight died almost immediately with Russia's sudden appearance. Georgia's whole body tensed and he gnashed his teeth at his mortal enemy, who simply continued to wear a calm smile.

"Nothing's wrong," Turkey cut in sharply. "We're just leaving. Come on…" he forcibly dragged Azerbaijan off.

Georgia glared at Russia for a moment, and then glared at Armenia as though he wanted to say something before he stormed off after Turkey and Azerbaijan.

Russia held onto his smile as he released Armenia. "Well, that was unpleasant."

"I'm sorry," Armenia said stiffly, brushing out his shirt.

"Well, you don't need my permission to talk to people, Armenia. You _are _independent, after all."

"I just wanted to show him my score, that's all. But I can barely get a moment to speak to him without that _k'ats_ butting in…"

Russia laughed lightly. "I noticed though that you didn't bother much with Turkey…"

"She's become more annoying than he is…"

* * *

><p>"All right, all right, Azer," Turkey scolded, setting his sister down. "What have I told you about picking a fight with Armenia?"<p>

"He just makes me so _angry_!" Azerbaijan fumed. "Always causing me problems…causing _you_ problems! Oh, it's so irritating!"

"Let's calm down," Georgia said, raising his hands. "They're counting our votes, and it's pretty much up there of who could win."

Turkey shrugged. "It still sucks that I didn't get in…" he trailed off as he looked over his shoulder. "W-Wait! That stupid troll is gone!" he cheered and pumped his fists.

"Wow, it _is_ gone," Azerbaijan said, looking around.

"He probably ran away when the fight broke out," Georgia said bluntly.

* * *

><p>"Doitsu!" Italy ran into Germany's green and hugged the other country. "I'm so happy to see you!"<p>

"Likewise," Germany said. But before he could return the hug, Prussia abruptly dragged Italy out of his arms.

"ITALY!" the older Germanic country wailed, crushing Italy in his arms. "How nice of you to come and see me! I saw your performance and you kicked ass!"

"_Grazie_," Italy laughed painfully. "B-But I messed up—"

"Nonsense, it was fucking hilarious! And hilarity quadruples entertainment value!" Prussia rubbed his cheek against his head. "Gyaaaa, you're so _cute_ Italy!"

"…Are you drunk, Aniki?" Germany asked, his voice straining slightly.

"He's _something_ all right," Hungary muttered. "Come on, let Italy go so he can visit with Germany!"

"I-It's okay, Miss Hungary," Italy said. "I was also looking for Nii-san, too…"

"Oh, Romano very _**busy**_ with Spain at the moment!" Prussia cackled. "Don't be surprised if you see him walking fun—OOF!"

A frying pan flew through the air and smacked Prussia square in the face, sending him flying backwards to the floor. "WHO'S WALKING FUNNY, YOU DIRTY BASTARD?"

"Nii-san!" Italy cheered, running over to Romano, who was standing in the doorway. Admittedly Romano _did_ look a little disheveled, and standing behind him was an equally disheveled Spain. "There you are!"

"Huh," Hungary said, idly picking up the frying pan. "I was wondering where this went to?"

"ANIKI?" Germany screamed, grabbing the unconscious Prussia by his collar and shaking him violently. "Aniki, wake up! Wake up right now! I'm not doing the finale alone! WAKE UP!"

"Is it time to go yet?" Romano fumed, locking Italy in a headlock. "I don't want you hanging around the _potato perverts_!"

"Nii-san, Germany isn't a pervert!" Italy countered. "Germany is really awesome and handsome—"

"Whatever, SHUT UP!" Romano dragged him out of the room.

"Nii-san, I want to visit with Germany!" Italy wailed. "Nii-san, Nii—"

Italy stopped crying suddenly. Romano looked at him. "What?"

"You _are_ walking funny!" Italy laughed.

Romano screamed in rage and punched him. Still standing at the doorway, Spain laughed lightly.

* * *

><p>"<em>It is time! The scores have been calculated!"<em>

The participating countries (including Hong Kong) were all marched onto the stage, where they stood shoulder-to-shoulder behind the host for Eurovision. The audience quickly silenced as the host happily came out, waving to the audience. "Hello and welcome back!"

"We have a new winner for 2011!" the host continued. "But before I announce them, I ask that all of you give a round of applause to this year's participants! They all did an amazing job!"

The audience obligingly clapped and cheered. Now to announce the top ten best songs for this year!"

"In tenth place, with one hundred and seven points is…" the host waved his arm. "Our host, _Germany_!"

Germany felt a jolt of shock. _Tenth place?_ He could feel the instant disappointment that he didn't win on his own soil, but still…tenth? That was _much_ higher than he thought he would be!

"Doitsu!" Italy cheered for him, clapping good-naturedly.

Romano was shrieking in laughter and pointing at him obnoxiously.

As Germany moved to step forward though, a body fell on top of his back. "West, WE DID IT! TENTH PLACE!" Prussia hugged his little brother and flipped the middle finger in Austria's direction. "Eat that, you _pansy aristocrat_!"

"_You_ didn't do anything, Aniki!" Germany snapped, shoving Prussia off of him.

"…There's still nine more countries to go," Austria said calmly, as Hungary glared murderously at Prussia.

"Ninth place, with one hundred and ten points is _Georgia_!"

Georgia's brow arched, but his mood brightened when Azerbaijan shrieked and she hugged him tightly. "Ninth place…again." He forced a smile as he stepped forward to stand beside Germany. He saw Turkey cheer for him in the audience and relaxed a little more.

"Eight place!" the host shouted. "With one hundred and nineteen points is…_Ireland_!"

"Oh!" Ireland cried out. She picked up Northern Ireland into her arms and hugged him tightly as she stepped forward. "We did it!"

"Good job!" England said painfully, his smiling twitching violently as he slowly clapped. "…Look what my twelve points did…"

"Seventh place, with one hundred and _twenty_ points is _Greece_!"

"YEAH!" Albania screamed. Cyprus and he jumped up to clap for Greece, and Turkey's good mood died. The older country slumped in his seat and cursed to himself. Greece cuddled a kitten to him as he stepped forward. He saw Japan stand up in the audience to clap for him, moreso saw Turkey looking morose, and that added to his good mood.

Norway took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _Four countries done, six to go…_

"Sixth place!" the host continued. "With one hundred and twenty-five points is…_Bosnia and Herzegovina_!"

Bosnia let out a loud cheer, and kissed Herzegovina on both cheeks. Both countries came forward, smiling widely. Serbia clapped for them, though he noticed that Bosnia didn't look at him at all.

"Now for the top five!" the host called.

"Five more countries left," Greenland said.

Norway grunted and took a sip of water.

"Fifth place, with one hundred and thirty-four points is…_Denmark_!"

"**PFFFFFFFFT!**" Norway spewed the water out, soaking the person sitting in front of him, and began coughing violently.

Denmark stood up on stage in shock for a moment. He counted the numbers on one hand. Then he started screaming in falsetto and jumping around all over the stage. "I won! I WON!" he randomly picked up Iceland by his waist and hoisted him up briefly. "_**JEG BESEJREDE NORGEEEE**__!_" in his glee he even grabbed Sweden around the neck and kissed him on the mouth. He had to be ushered forward, with everyone staring at him blankly. Behind him, Sweden coldly wiped his mouth.

"…Wow," Sealand said slowly. He looked at Norway, who was still coughing. "He got fifth place, so that means he won your bet, right?"

Norway scrubbed at his mouth and quickly jumped to his feet. "I-I have to go! Please excuse me!"

"Wait, you're _bailing_?" Greenland asked.

"W-What about the finale?" Faroe asked.

Norway didn't answer. He climbed over the other countries and took off running up the aisle.

"F-Fourth place!" the host stammered, obviously unhinged by Denmark's behavior. "With one hundred and _fifty-nine_ points is _Ukraine_!"

Ukraine gasped loudly, and pressed a hand over her mouth. Russia happily cheered for her, and tears sprung to Ukraine's eyes as she stepped forward. "I-I…oh thank you a—(_**BA DUM!**_)."

"And finally!" the host continued, gaining his enthusiasm. "It's time for our top-three winners!"

"This is so _crazy_!" America said, wringing his hands. "I have no idea who's going to win!"

"So long as it isn't Russia," Poland muttered. "But it would, like, totally be great if Liet won…"

"Let's cheer for our _fratelli_, Seborga!" San Marino encouraged.

Seborga grumbled to himself.

"Third place!" the host announced. "With one hundred and _eighty-five _points…please put your hands together for _Sweden_!"

"OH MY GOD!" Sealand cheered. He jumped on top of his seat and began clapping and cheering loudly. "Papa-Sweden!"

"_PAPA_!" Åland cheered, waving a small flag of Sweden.

Sweden stood frozen on the stage, while Finland clapped beside him. "Outstanding job, Su-san!"

Sweden suddenly grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into his arms. In front of the world he stoically planted a deep kiss on Finland's mouth, lifting the smaller man straight off his feet.

"Ewwwwwwwww!" Sealand said, covering his eyes. "Of all the things to happen, why do my adoptive parents have to snog on live television?"

"Ewwwwwwwww!" Åland said, mostly to mimic Sealand.

"Show-off!" Denmark hollered, folding his arms over his chest.

"_Hvers vegna veit ég þetta fólk?_" Iceland complained quietly, still straining his voice as he shielded his face.

Sweden finally let Finland go, leaving the smaller Nordic to stumble backwards into Iceland, his face flushed. Unabashed and face frozen, he stepped forward to stand beside Ukraine.

"Ah…" the host stammered for a moment before he regained his composure. "A-A-And next! Second place and our runner-up! With one hundred and eighty-nine points! It is…" he read the list once more. "_ITALY_!"

"HEH?" Italy's eyes shot open, and his mouth fell open in shock. He gaped at Romano, who looked just as shocked. "W-W-We? Nii-san? We're _**second place**_?"

"**WE DID IT**!" Seborga shrieked all of a sudden. He stood up on his seat and waved the Italian flag over his head violently. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"…Wow," San Marino laughed feebly. "_Now_ you're excited!"

"It's THEIR victory, not yours!" Sealand pointed out loudly.

"…Second place…" Romano spoke slowly. Suddenly his face lit up and he screamed loudly. "VITTORIA!" He screamed some more and pumped his fists.

"Romano!" Spain hugged him and kissed him hard on the cheek. "I just_ know _my twelve points helped you!"

"Yeah, whatever!" Romano pushed Spain away and marched upon Germany.

"C-Congrat—" Germany began.

"EAT THAT, YOU POTATO-SUCKING BASTARD!" Romano shrieked, shoving his middle finger in Germany's face. "I TOLD YOU we would beat you! And you suck, suck, **SUCK**!"

"_Ja_, YOU'RE so great!" Prussia snapped. "That's why you're the RUNNER-UP!"

Germany's face turned red from embarrassment and rage. It was shameful that Romano shame him like this in his own borders. "You—"

"NII-SAN!" Italy cried out, locking Romano in a full-nelson and dragging him away. "I-I'm so sorry, Germany! I'm very happy both of us are in the top ten! You did an amazing job!"

Germany relaxed. Somewhat. "_Danke_. And you deserve your second-place spot. Just not _him_." he pointed at Romano.

"YOU—" Romano snapped.

"It's time to announce our winner!" the host cut in. "And with a massive _two hundred and twenty-one _points!"

"Didn't we get more points when we won last year?" Prussia muttered to Germany.

"…_Ja_," Germany said at length.

"Ladies and gentlemen…" the host paused dramatically as he started to open the envelope. "The winner of the fifty-sixth annual Eurovision Song Contest for 2011 is…"

He opened the envelope and scanned the paper inside. After a moment, he shot his fist up into the air. "**AZERBAIJAN**!"

Azerbaijan's face froze all of a sudden, as cheers began to rise from the audience. Confetti fell from the ceiling, and her flag swooped down over everyone's heads.

Suddenly, she screamed very loudly and slapped her hands over her mouth, tears filling her eyes. "M-Me? _ME_? I won?"

Turkey was frozen in the audience as well. Suddenly, he screamed bloody-murder and jumped up. "_**EVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET**_!" he flailed his hands and screamed some more. "She won! _BİZ KAZANDI_!" He grabbed Netherlands, who happened to be sitting next to him, by his collar and kissed him hard on his face before he tossed the other country back into his seat, jumped over the seats, and ran towards the stage. "Azer! _Küçük kardeş! ZAFER! İLK YER_!"

"SADIQ!" Azerbaijan screamed, running at the other country. They met on the stage and Turkey swept her up into his arms in a tight hug, leaving her legs to kick up backwards into the air.

"…Wow," Seborga said slowly. "I wasn't expecting this."

"I don't think anyone else was, either," Belgium said.

"Where's Azerbaijan?" America asked.

"Her house is not too far from mine—" Pakistan began.

"Shut up, I told you not to talk to me!"

"Bleeeeeh," Netherlands complained, wiping at his face repeatedly.

Turkey let Azerbaijan go, but only briefly. He picked her up by her waist and hoisted her up onto his shoulder and began parading up and down the stage with her. It was as though Turkey had won the contest itself, and not her, but both basked in the glory. After a moment they returned to center-stage, and Turkey set her down. No sooner did Azerbaijan's feet touch the stage then she was swept up again, this time into Georgia's arms.

Turkey pumped his fists and grinned sinisterly at Greece. "First victory is always the _sweetest_!" it was then he saw Iceland standing on the stage. "_Bocchan_!" he picked the smaller country up and hugged him too. "Aren't you happy for me?"

"…Sure," Iceland wheezed, wondering if Norway could see them from the audience.

"_Gilots'avt'!_" Georgia cheered, kissing Azerbaijan on the cheek as he set her down. Germany and Prussia, as the hosts, quickly presented her with her crystal trophy, though Prussia also sneaked in a kiss as well.

"I-I-I-I really don't know what to say!" Azerbaijan sputtered, tears still spilling down her cheeks as she spoke into the ready microphone. "This is such an honor for me to win!"

"YOU'RE THE BEST!" Turkey hollered, running over to hug her again.

Reactions to this shocking victory were still very mixed with the other countries, and remained as such when the screen lit up at the back of the stage to reveal the final standings.

"ELEVENTH?" England hollered. He screamed with joy and pumped his fists. "I'm eleventh! I'm not last this year!"

"That's because _we're_ here," Wales muttered.

"I still did _better_ than you!" Ireland taunted England.

England snarled at her.

"Twelfth," Moldova read blandly. "That's better than last year…"

"Fifteenth?" France laughed. "Well…I _did_ do a good job…two perfect scores from Greece and Belgium…"

"…Sixteenth?" Russia read smilingly, though a dark aura surrounded him. "I'm sixteenth with no perfect score?"

Georgia snorted.

"Seventeenth?" Wallachia read. She looked at Transylvania. "We're tied with Russia at the same score, so why are we ranked _below_ him?"

"…I don't know," Transylvania said. "But I _will_ find out."

"Get over yourselves!" Hungary snapped, while she smiled at Austria. "Congratulations on eighteenth place, Austria!"

"_Danke_," Austria said.

"HA!" Prussia yelled. "I TOLD YOU we would do better than you, you pansy!"

Hungary snarled, but Wallachia cut her off. "You're only twenty-second, _dragă_!"

"N-Nineteenth," Lithuania said feebly. "Feliks and Georgia gave me perfect scores…and Belarus gave me _nothing_…"

"…Twentie—OFF!" Iceland was cut off when Turkey snuggled him yet again. "Good ranking, _Bocchan_!"

"Twenty-first," Finland said, staring warily at Turkey and Iceland. "A-At least Sealand liked it…"

"_Vigésimo tercer_?" Spain said mournfully. "That's worse than last year!"

"Why are you surprised?" Romano asked him.

"…Wow," Estonia said. "Twenty-fourth. I didn't think I did _that_ bad…"

But it was Switzerland's standing that worried everyone. "…Twenty-fifth." He gritted his teeth and clutched his rifle to his chest. "I'm _**dead last**_ this year? I sang that humiliating song for _nothing_? What was the point of voting me into the final if they only intended to give me _**nineteen points**_?"

"Waugh!" a stagehand cried out in fear. "W-W-Who let him onstage with the gun?"

"What, we _you_ going to stop him?" another snapped.

"Let's see…" Denmark laughed happily as he surveyed the scores he got. "Wow, I got high marks! Three perfects from Ice—thank you Ice—_Ireland_." He shuddered slightly. "And—_Netherlands_!"

Denmark spun around and ran to the front of the front of the stage. He ripped the microphone out of the host's hands. "Hey Netherlands! I WANT TO **FUCK YOU**!"

His proclamation echoed throughout the arena, silencing all conversations. The countries sitting in the audience turned towards Netherlands, who stood there stone-faced. "D-Did he really just say that?"

"You're really popular, Nii-san!" Luxembourg laughed.

From backstage, a very haggard Norway watched this on a television. "…Does that mean I'm off the hook? _HEI_!" he shouted suddenly when the camera turned on Turkey, who was still snuggling Iceland from behind. "Get your hands off my brother, you _pervers_!" temporarily forgetting the reason he was running away, Norway ran back into the main arena.

"_Why_ me?" Netherlands hollered, covering his face and falling back into his seat. "Over Christmas I wake up with a half-naked _**SPAIN**_ of all things on top of me! Now tonight! Turkey kisses me and DENMARK hits me up for sex! _Wat verdomme!_ I'm NOT into guys!"

"_Niet_," Belgium said remorselessly. "You're just into young gi—"

"_HOU JE BEK_!" Netherlands hollered, covering her mouth.

Seborga watched the chaos around him with a deep frown. He folded his arms over his chest. "It doesn't matter. Azerbaijan's not canon either, anyway."

"Of _course_ she's not a cannon," San Marino chastised him, shaking his head. "Your insults are very weird, Seborga."

Seborga glared at him.

* * *

><p>The next chapter is the finale so stay tuned!<p>

- _Love Mode_, if you haven't already guessed, is a _yaoi_ manga by Yuki Shimizu, and one of the first _yaoi_ series I've ever read. This is sort of my tribute to it, because it's currently out of print here in America due to Blu Manga closing. That and I can't find a copy of volumes 10 and 11 that aren't below _$100_! –grrrrr—

- I was totally channeling _Lucky Star_ during the whole _yaoi _exchange. I recommend typing in "Lucky Star What is Yaoi?" on Youtube. Still very funny to me no matter how many times I see it.

- In the last Eurovision Italy competed, which was 1997 (also the last time England has won so far), Spain only gave him eight points. But Italy gave Spain _three_ points, so Romano made a pretty stupid argument on that, lol. Incidentally, Norway got ZERO TOTAL POINTS that same year! Poor Norway…

- Armenia's entry was controversial in his own country because it wasn't a very popular song with the populous. After Emmy was decided to be the singer, four songs were selected to be voted on by both viewers and a jury panel. Viewers all over Armenia overwhelmingly voted for the song _"Ayo"_, while _"Boom-Boom"_ did not finish so high. The jury panel, however, voted down _"Ayo"_ and _"Boom-Boom"_ ended up winning. This angered a lot of Armenians, including Emmy herself, and despite the technical issues not a lot of Armenians was surprised they didn't qualify.

- Azerbaijan's arresting people refers to the 2009 Eurovision Song Contest. Sixty-nine people in Azerbaijan were confirmed to have voted for Armenia's entry, and apparently all of these people were arrested and questioned on the grounds of being "security threats". Azerbaijani authorities have downplayed these reports, only stating a couple of people were peacefully brought in they felt were suspicious.

- I mean no offense of the use of the term "personality-cult" when describing the Azerbaijani government, but many organizations have described President Ilham Aliev's tenure as a personality-cult because of supposed media white-washing.

- Denmark screaming "I want to fuck you" to Netherlands of course references when the lead singer of A Friend in London, Tom Schou, said "I love you. I want to fuck you." uncensored on live television to the Netherlands when it was announced they gave them a perfect score.

Here's the translation for Serbia's song, as can be found at Eurovision's website:

"Freezing cold and damn ice everywhere  
>I've really had a rough day<br>People are weird, nobody has manners  
>I'm dragging myself home, tired<p>

"And while I'm digging through my purse to find my key  
>losing my nerve already<br>My Sun, my Moon and all of my stars  
>my man opens the door<br>my man is at the door

"And at the same moment I'm a thousand women worth  
>because, to him, I'm beautiful and strong as a rock<br>and when he holds me, I know everything is alright  
>the man is magical<p>

"All of my darknesses he transforms into spring  
>ever since he's been loving me, I stand tall<br>and for him, I'm good, just the way I am  
>the man is magical<p>

"Goodbye sadness and hello my smile  
>happiness has moved in alongside with him<br>so warm, gentle and wonderfully himself  
>he belongs to me only<p>

"We have long talks, he's my best friend  
>with him I laugh like crazy<br>people tell me they haven't seen a couple  
>shining like that<br>our love is contagious

"Now I know that I'm a thousand women worth  
>because, to him, I'm beautiful and strong as a rock<br>and when he holds me, I know everything is alright  
>the man is magical<p>

"All of my darknesses he transforms into spring  
>ever since he's been loving me, I stand tall<br>and for him, I'm good, just the way I am  
>the man is magical"<p> 


	8. Finale

And here is our final chapter! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Just so everyone knows; the finale presented here wasn't part of the 2011 show but the 2010 show. I liked it show much and I hate that I didn't have it as part of _Sing to Me_, so here it is for everyone!

Chapter 8

"_Now that our winner has been announced, we invite you all to stay tuned as our participants present you all with a grand finale!"_ the announcement came. _"The finale will begin in twenty minutes."_

"Well, here we go," Poland said sourly, brushing out his clothes as he stood. "I'm not in much of a dancing mood, but I'll, like, totally do better than everyone else."

"Finale? Dance?" America asked as the non-qualifying countries rose out of their seats. "What's happening?"

"We're ending the show with a flash mob dance," San Marino explained. "It's going to be so much fun!"

"Oh, awesome!" America cheered. "Can_ I _dance, too?"

"Sure, why not?" Albania said. "After all, it's open to the entire audience, and everyone in Europe."

"That should be…interesting," Canada said quietly.

Sealand checked his phone and stood. "They're here! I _dare_ them to try and censor me!"

"Who're here?" Greenland asked.

"My people!" Sealand clarified. "So _I'm _going to dance as a country of Europe with my citizens!"

"…All _five_ of them?"

"…Will Denmark make us dance with him?" Faroe said thoughtfully. "Norway just sort of ran off…"

"_Jag kommer att dansa med Mama och Papa_!" Åland cheered happily.

"We'd better get changed for the dance," Finland said, brushing out his shirt. His face was still red with embarrassment from Sweden's public kiss. "A-And I'll go retrieve Åland and Sealand from the audience."

Denmark was cackling and rubbing his hands together. "I won…I beat him! I beat Norge! Azerbaijan may have won Eurovision, but _I'm_ the true victor!"

"_How_ are you the true victor?" Turkey asked, obviously looking to stick up for his sister. He was slumped over Iceland's shoulders, still hugging the stoic younger country to him. "Will you dance, Bocchan?"

"I…guess so," Iceland said, trying to walk with Turkey on him. "My people would certainly want to—"

"_Hei_!"

At this shout, Turkey abruptly let Iceland go. "I-I'm sorry, Bocchan, but I must attend to Azer! I'll see you out there!"

"But—" Iceland began.

But Turkey had already run off by the time Norway reached his fellow Nordics. Denmark had sparkles in his eyes. "Ah, Norge—"

"_Why_ was he here?" Norway snapped at Iceland, ignoring Denmark completely as he rounded on his younger brother. "Why was he _touching you_?"

Iceland glared back at him and didn't reply. Fearing another escalating situation, Finland ran over to mediate. "Now, now, nothing happened! Turkey was just excited that Azerbaijan won, is all! Really, Norway!"

Norway only looked at Finland briefly before he grabbed Iceland by his arm. "You're dancing with _me_, and you're NOT to go near Turkey!"

Iceland's brow rose at this proclamation. But Finland cut in before he could respond. "Great! Now let's go get ready!"

Finland raced off to collect the children, and Norway dragged Iceland towards the Nordic greenroom. After a moment of silence, Sweden looked at Denmark. "I'm surprised you let him walk away like that."

Denmark shrugged. "It's no worry. It's not like he can fulfill his end of the bargain right at this moment."

"…_I'm_ certainly relieved for that," Sweden muttered.

* * *

><p>Russia was humming to himself as he walked backstage to his green room. It was hard to tell by the casual eye whether or not he was in a good mood. He was smiling, but his smile could mean so <em>many<em> different things.

The pipe in his hand wasn't reassuring, either.

As he rounded the corner, something caught his eye. Someone was sitting on the floor in the hallway, back to the wall, knees curled up to the chest, arms folded over the knees, and face buried in the arms.

"Armenia?" Russia asked after a moment. He walked over to his friend, who gave no reaction to his approach. "Why are you sitting out here, Armenia?" he knelt down so that he was on even-level with the other country. "Would you like some chocolate?" he reached into his pockets to look for a chocolate bar.

"…No," Armenia said quietly after a long moment, his voice muffled by his arms. "No, I-I don't want any chocolate. Do you have vodka? I would like some vodka."

"Sure." Russia reached into his coat and held out the bottle. "Here's some vodka for you. But why do you look so upset?"

Armenia unfolded his arms and took the bottle, though his head remained hunched over. "Azerbaijan won."

"…Ah." Russia understood then. Though he reveled in seeing pain and misery in other countries—especially when _he_ inflicted it—it made him not-so comfortable to see it in a country that wasn't afraid to call him 'friend'. Especially since his perfect score to Azerbaijan helped her victory. "A lot of the other countries were upset by the win."

"Maybe," Armenia said, his tone still very quiet. "But most of them aren't enemies of her." he hugged the bottle to his chest. "I miss qualify by one point, and one of my mortal enemies wins Eurovision. This…_hasn't_ been a good time for me."

"…_Da_." The situation was making Russia uncomfortable. He wasn't someone who could dole out comfort. That wasn't what he was. He couldn't even comfort Ukraine the _numerous_ times she cried over something. He reached out and awkwardly patted Armenia on the shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Armenia raised his head. He wasn't crying, but his expression was very sad and angry. He rested his chin on his arms. "I'm…probably not going to be able to compete next year."

"Because of your borders issues?" Russia asked.

"That and I don't know if my boss would want to even _send_ me. My people aren't welcome in Azerbaijan. Do you know what they tell people of Armenian descent if they visit? To _expect_ to be discriminated!" he bit down hard on his bottom lip. "But if I _don't_ go, that _k'ats_ will never let me hear the end of it…"

"Just…don't think about it," Russia said. "It's about time for the finale anyways, and you need to get ready."

Armenia shrugged. "I don't feel like dancing."

"But if you don't dance, what will your people say? I'm certain plenty of them are also upset about Azerbaijan's win, and they want you to be strong for them."

Armenia rested his forehead back against his arm. But, then he nodded. "All right…"

"Good!" Russia cheered, standing up. He grabbed Armenia by his wrist and yanked him up as well. "Well then, you need to get ready! And at least you have that bottle of vodka to comfort you!"

Armenia grumbled, though he tried to open the bottle as Russia proceeded to drag him off.

* * *

><p>Germany grumbled as he looked himself over. It was hardly the time to be nervous, but he was irritated that he had to do this. "Is this <em>really<em> a good idea?"

"You're the hosts," his boss told him, brushing off his shoulders. "So you have to lead it."

"Well how am I supposed to know that Aniki won't _bail_ on me again like he did tonight?"

"Because he's already taken his spot further up the row," his boss said. She pointed down the aisle. "He'll join you when you reach him."

Germany took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "He had _better…_"

"I get to dance with Germany!" Italy cheered, taking his place beside all of the countries lined up in front of the first row. As the winner, Azerbaijan took her place onstage along with Georgia, Turkey, and Northern Cyprus. Greece found he was a bit miffed to see Turkey up there, _especially_ since he didn't make the finals.

"What's so great about _that_?" Romano demanded. He cursed and rubbed at his neck. "_I'm_ the best dancer out here, so it might be funny to see how much everyone _fails_ beside me!"

Spain laughed, and pulled Romano into a tight hug. "And just _who_ taught you to dance, _mi poco de tomate_?"

"Get the fuck off me! It's about to start!"

"Norge, don't you want to dance with _me_?" Denmark whined. The other Nordic had placed Finland, Sweden, Iceland, and even the Netherlands and Luxembourg between them. Netherlands for his part grumbled to himself about all of his misfortunes, and glared in Spain's direction, who was standing beside Belgium. Luxembourg forced a smile and rubbed at her older brother's arm.

Lithuania saw Russia take his place in the line, dragging Armenia with him. Armenia was gulping down a large bottle of vodka. He breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that Russia would be preoccupied during the dance. The only thing that would make things better is if Belarus was at his side, but the other country squeezed over to stand with Russia.

"Let's have fun!" Poland cheered, throwing an arm around Lithuania's neck.

"…I'll try," Lithuania said painfully.

The arena dimmed very slightly. _"We're back,"_ came the announcement. _"So Europe…are you ready to dance?"_

Everyone cheered. America cracked his knuckles and stood up. "Time to show them what I'm made of!"

"Ah…" Japan fidgeted in his seat. "I-I'll just remain seated…"

The music started, and Germany was given the signal to start. He came out of the darkness from the back, and saw the waiting camera. Since the audience was Europe, he knew he had to sing directly into the camera. It made him a little uncomfortable to be addressing all of Europe this way, but he tried not to let it show.

"_My heart—it beats to your song! A melody—sent from God! I can't breathe—when you're gone! Yes, I'm deeply in lo-ve!"_

"_Be my Valentine!"_ to Germany's shock, Prussia burst out of the darkness, right where their boss said he would be, and slung an arm around his shoulders as he sang.

"_E-Every single day of my life!"_ Germany sputtered.

"_My hear is sacrificed…"_ Prussia sang, leaning straight into the camera.

"_Night and day—day and night! Today's the day!"_

"_Tonight's the night!"_

"_I know you feelin' my sound!"_

"_Imma make you clap!"_

"Hey, LOOK!" America shouted, pointing behind them. "Here they come!" Indeed, Germany and Prussia were coming straight up their aisle. Everyone turned to watch their approach, or wave and scream obnoxiously at the camera.

"This looks like fu—" Pakistan began.

"DON'T TALK TO ME!" America snapped.

"He's NOT!" China yelled back at him.

"_Imma lay it down!" _Germany continued to sing awkwardly.

"_Imma lay it down,"_ Prussia echoed with a laugh.

"_Imma get up so I can't get down!"_

"_Imma, Imma—"_

"_Hear me roar! Hear my thunder sound!"_

"_Imma, Imma—"_

"_I'm the lord of the underground!"_

"_Imma, Imma—"_

"_Part of the jungle!"_

"_Imma, Imma—"_

Germany and Prussia were still coming down the aisle, very quickly towards both the countries sitting as spectators, and the countries waiting for them at the stage. Prussia randomly slapped high-fives with Australia. The other countries rose from their seats as the two Germanic brothers passed by.

Suddenly, Prussia acted. While he sang, his hand shot out and closed around Canada's wrist. To the other country's shock, he found himself being _dragged_ behind Prussia! "Uh—um—um—uh—"

"Hey!" America cried out. "How come he took _Canada_?"

"_Hear me roar! Hear my thunder sound!"_ Germany continued to sing.

"_Imma, Imma—"_ Prussia dragged Canada with him, ignoring his sputtering.

"_I'm the lord of the underground!"_

"_Imma, Imma—"_

"_Part of the jungle…"_

They reached the front, where all of the participating countries were lined up. In unison they immediately broke out in a line dance while Germany and Prussia sang. _"Let's glow!—Hands high! Hands high! I can't wait! I can't wait to see ya—Glow!—Hands high! Hands high! Round the world! Round the world, my people—Glow! Glow! I can't wait! I can't wait to see ya—Glow!—Hands high! Hands high! Glow…"_

Everyone got into the beat of the song, and it became infectious throughout the arena. After the chorus, the stage became flooded with people from Azerbaijan, Turkey, and Georgia, who all danced with their anthropomorphic countries.

"_Let us share this moment! Let's enjoy this night! Get the world connected! Though you one of a kind!"_ Germany and Prussia continued their duet, even as the other countries broke away to dance with their own people. _"See! We try to reach out! Get the world to see! Though—we all feel different! You are just like me!"_

"Whoa, this is AWESOME!" America screamed, jumping up and down and flailing his body. "They should do this EVERY YEAR!"

Japan covered his head to avoid America's violently swinging arms. "And I'll _definitely_ stay home, no matter what next year…"

"Where's Sealand?" Finland asked, holding Åland in his arms as he glanced towards Sweden. Their respective groups of citizens were dancing side-by-side.

Sweden shrugged his whole body stiff. "I don't know."

"_Ruotsalaiset ovat kaikki homo_!" one Finn shouted to Sweden's people.

"_DU är bög_!" a Swede shouted back.

Finland stared at the two groups, horrified. "Uh…"

"Look, LOOK!" Sealand shouted, hopping up and down. "We're all here!" indeed, all five of his citizens were happily dancing with him. His crowned prince looked like he was doing the Macarena.

"There he is," Sweden said blandly, ignoring the animosity between his people and Finland's.

Italy was dancing freely with the Italian women surrounding him. "This is so much fun!"

"_Oui, oui_!" France shouted nearby. He seemed to be involved in a giant bump-and-grind with all of his people.

Romano scoffed. "We're obviously better than every—ACK!"

Spain jumped on him from behind. "Romano! You will dance with me, _sí_?"

"Ugh—_IDIOTA_!"

Latvia was totally getting into it, happily singing along with the music. _"I can't wait! I can't to see—"_

He tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground. His own people didn't seem to notice and continued to dance and stomp to the rhythm. Right ON TOP of him!

"_LATVIA_!" Lithuania and Estonia shrieked. Though Lithuania had Poland jump on his back at that same moment. "Come on, get into it Liet!"

Denmark kept trying to move closer to Norway, but the other country seemed content to use Faroe and Greenland as shields as he very stiffly danced with his people. Iceland undoubtedly was still angry with Norway over being strangled, and his interference in his personal life, because he was further away from his Nordic brethren.

Russia was very lightly and stiffly moving to the song, a smile on his face. He didn't seem to notice that most of the other countries were dancing quite a distance away from him and his people. "Well…this can be fun, too!"

Germany saw how crazy most everyone was dancing, and was happy he was just singing. Prussia was singing beside him as well, still hanging onto Canada's hand, though the other country looked confused and embarrassed. Germany then saw Italy dancing with a bunch of girls, and he felt a brief spell of anger. He tried to cover it up as they launched into the next phase of the song. "_We free! And you so light! Let me see you glow! Throughout the night! Cause I wanna dance! Yes I wanna dance! To-night!"_

The dancing continued all throughout the arena, and across Europe. Towards the end of the song, the countries left their groups of people and hurried onstage. Sealand tried to join them, but was held back by security.

Germany and Prussia were front and center, Azerbaijan sandwiched between the two of them. _"I can't wait! I can't wait to see ya—Glow!—Hands high! Hands high! Round the world! Round the world, my people—Glow! Glow! I can't wait! I can't wait to see ya—Glow!—Hands high! Hands high! Glow…"_

Canada jumped as everyone around him broke out into dance. He had no preparation for this at all, and Prussia hadn't released him. He had no idea why Prussia dragged him along to participate when he didn't know what to do. "Ah…uh…" knowing he stood out by just standing there, he began to stiffly move. "What do I do, Mr. Kumajirou?" he asked his bear, for once getting his name right.

"Who are you?" Mr. Kumajirou asked him.

"I'm Canada!"

The finale finally finished up with a shout from Prussia, and the arena exploded in cheers. Italy ran up and hugged Germany from behind, much to Romano's annoyance. But he was preoccupied with Spain hanging off him, so he couldn't say or do much.

"We KICK ASS!" Prussia shouted. He grabbed Canada again and suddenly planted a hard kiss right on his mouth! He abruptly let Canada go and pumped his fists, screaming loudly.

Austria blinked very slowly. "Did…Did Prussia just do that?"

Hungary gagged slightly. "He sure did…poor Canada won't _ever_ get over it!"

* * *

><p>Despite the adrenaline and elation that rushed through all of the countries following the flash mob dance, by the time the after-party started sour feelings were still running rampant over Azerbaijan's win.<p>

The mixture of alcohol certainly didn't help matters.

"Such a mediocre song—"

"Recycled dribble—"

"Ear-bleedingly annoying—"

"SHE'S NOT A EUROPEAN COUNTRY ANYWAYS!"

Azerbaijan was either oblivious to the negativity surrounding her, or she was outright ignoring it. She basked in her glory, happily drinking beer and celebrating and dancing with Turkey, Georgia, and Northern Cyprus.

"Canada!" America yelled, waving his flustered brother over. "Dude, I can't believe you sucked face with Prussia on live television! That takes BALLS!"

"Uh…um…" Canada was hovering a hand over his mouth, his face completely flushed.

"Ohhh, Mattie!" a drunken France flung himself over Canada. "My little baby is all grown up!"

Canada mumbled incoherently as his embarrassment mounted.

"Say," America said suddenly, leaning close to his brother. "What was it like, kissing him?"

Canada ducked his head, still covering his mouth with a hand. "H-He…he tasted like beer…and cereal…"

Lithuania drank heavily from his beer, and looked over his shoulder. An incredibly drunk Armenia was curled up on Russia lap, crying uncontrollably into his chest. Russia was smiling away, rubbing his back in a comfort gesture. Lithuania didn't know if that smile spelled discomfort, or pleasure at his ally's misery.

_Oh well. He's still occupied with Armenia, so he'll leave __**me**__ alone._

"Liet…"

Lithuania stiffened as Poland slid an arm around his shoulders and pressed his mouth into his ear. "Liet, can I ask you a question?"

"W-What is it, Feliks?" Lithuania asked warily. Poland's breath stank of _nalewka_, and that made him feel very uneasy.

Poland grinned lopsidedly at Lithuania, and trailed a fingernail lightly down his cheek. "Did you _really_ totally sing to me tonight?"

Lithuania's face turned bright red, and he looked self-consciously at the other occupants of the table, Estonia and Latvia, who were watching this scene. Latvia, who was still sporting bruises from his fall, looked embarrassed, but Estonia looked thoughtful. "W-W-Why do you ask?"

"_WHY_?" Poland leaned back and looked at Lithuania as though he were stupid. "Why? Because you, like, totally sang a _love song_! That's why!"

"U-Uh…" Lithuania ducked his head. "I…uh…"

"If you didn't, just come out and say it," Estonia said. "You two were married for _centuries_, after all. Why is this a big deal?"

"Eduard, I do NOT need your input!" Lithuania snapped.

"B-But singing to Poland _is_ better than singing to Miss Belarus," Latvia stammered. "I-I mean, she hurts you so _much_ Toris…"

"Belarus _doesn't_ hurt me—"

"If breaking your bones _isn't_ hurting you," Estonia interrupted. "What _do_ you classify as hurt?"

"Why do you keep chasing after that _SUKA_?" Poland demanded suddenly. He grabbed Lithuania by his collar. "All she does is hurt you and yet you, like, _totally_ chase after her like some puppy! What's so great about her?"

"F-Feliks, let me go," Lithuania gurgled, forcing the other country's hands steady. "You don't understand. Belarus is very beautiful, and—er—tenacious, and—"

"You can't think of _anything_!" Poland spat back. "And yet you continue to chase after her, when she would sooner _kill you_ than hold your hand!"

"Uh, I think you drank too much, Poland," Estonia said thoughtfully.

"Feliks, just _stop it_!" Lithuania snapped. "You're being _very annoying_, and Belarus doesn't annoy me! I don't know WHY I sang to you tonight, it just happened!"

Poland gaped at him in shock. Lithuania realized too late what he'd said and his face turned red.

"So it _was_ true," Estonia said. "That was nice of you, Toris."

"Eduard—"

"LIET!" Poland cheered, hugging Lithuania tightly. "Oh, I'm so happy! You were singing TO ME! _**KOCHAM CIĘ**_!"

"FELIKS!" Lithuania shouted in embarrassment.

Latvia was gaping at them. "D-D-Did Poland _really _say that?"

"Of course he did," Estonia said, idly cleaning his glasses. "Now it's just a matter of Toris saying _'Ma armastan sind'_ in return."

"B-But wouldn't Toris say _'Aš tave myliu'_?"

"EDUARD! RAIVIS!" Lithuania screamed, unable to move with Poland on top of him. _This is turning into a nightmare!_

Albania drank a mouthful of ouzo when he saw Serbia enter the party-hall, accompanied by his former Yugoslavian allies. "Hey, SERBIA!" he bellowed out. "Congratulations on FOURTEENTH PLACE behind your former territories, you _HUMBËS_!"

Serbia pointedly ignored him. His expression didn't change either, even when San Marino ran up to him. "I gave you five points tonight, Serbia! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Can you _please_ stop drinking?" Greece demanded, ripping the bottle of ouzo out of Albania's hands. "I'd rather be with Japan than _babysitting_ you!"

"I-It's really all right," Japan stammered. "He looks like he's having fun…"

"_He_ might be, but the rest of us aren't!"

"I'm calling Kosovo," Albania said, pulling out his cell phone. "I _have_ to tell him the look on that _maskara's _face that he didn't win!"

"…He looked no different, really," Cyprus said.

The temptation to drown his misery in German beer was profound. But…Norway knew better than to get drunk. Yes…it was _absolutely necessary_ to have a clear head at the moment.

He rubbed at his temples, not looking at the children sitting at the table with him. Greenland looked like he was a dual game on a Nintendo DS with Sealand. Iceland had his knees curled up in his chair and was texting someone—most likely Turkey, and not looking like he cared if Norway got upset. Faroe was picking at her food, and kept glancing at Norway. "A-Are…are you okay?"

Norway was silent for a long moment before he spoke. "I…don't know."

A bare hand slowly caressed across his nape. Norway stiffened in his seat, and a chill overtook him as Denmark slowly knelt down beside him. "_God aften_, Norge."

"What is it?" Norway asked coldly. He didn't like the tone of Denmark's voice. It was very soft and soothing…almost _coaxing_.

Denmark only smiled as he slid a keycard into Norway's pocket. "Come up and see me in two hours. Greenland and Faroe have their own rooms."

Norway felt heat on his cheeks and he ducked his head low. "…Must I honor that damned wager now?" he hissed at him. "Can't this wait until _after_ we leave Germany?"

"Now, now, Norge," Denmark playfully scolded him. "We live in different houses now. What's to stop you from storming home and placing a seal on your house to ward off intruders?"

"I-I-I wouldn't do that." Norway bit his bottom lip._ You suck at lying, Norway!_

Denmark's smile only deepened and he leaned in closer to whisper into his ear. "Two hours. Don't forget, Norge. I promise to make it…_worth it_ that you lost."

Norway shivered, and pressed a hand over his face as Denmark slowly stood up. His cheerful demeanor return to him instantly and he ran off spouting something about beer.

Norway became very conscious of the fact that all the children at the table were staring at him. "_Hva_?" he demanded. "Do I have something on my face?"

"…What did Denmark want?" Greenland asked. "And what's this about 'honoring the wager' tonight?"

"Er…" Norway waved an impatient hand. "It's none of your business, so don't worry about it!"

"He agreed to sleep with Denmark if he lost," Iceland said bluntly, looking up briefly from his cell phone.

"_**ICELAND**_!" Norway roared, standing straight out of his seat, sending the chair flying backwards.

Iceland shrugged remorselessly. "You strangled me."

"Is _**THAT**_ why Denmark got Faroe and me our own rooms this year?" Greenland screamed. He began dry-heaving. "Eww, Norway! That's the SICKEST thing I've ever heard in my life! _Why _would you agree to such a thing? Ugh, I'm going to throw up!"

Sealand plugged his ears. "I know that Papa-Sweden and Papa-Finland are…and…" he began dry-heaving as well.

"Shut up, _shut up_!" Norway hollered. He glared murderously at his little brother. _I'll make you pay for this!_

"Ooooooh!" Turkey laughed hysterically as he passed their table. He didn't move towards Iceland, but he held his cell phone in his hand. "Is Big Brother going to get _lucky_ tonight?"

Iceland shrugged again.

Norway smacked a hand hard over his own face. _Someone kill me. Someone __**PLEASE KILL ME**__!_

Faroe watched him for a moment before she spoke. "You look so angry, Norway…why would you agree to this bet if it only upsets you?"

"Not that it's _anyone's _business," Norway snapped, still hiding his face behind his hand. "But we took a _blood-oath_ that he wouldn't speak to me, touch me, or come near me for an **entire year** if he lost!"

Greenland stopped dry-heaving and just stared blankly at Norway. "…Wow. He must've been _pretty_ desperate then."

"That _does_ sound like a good offer," Iceland said, showing sympathy for Norway for the first time. "Where'd he come up with an idea for that?"

"When he was out drinking once with Prussia, Prussia mentioned an oath he had to take with Aus—_why are we having this conversation_?" Norway snapped.

"I'm so sorry you lost," Faroe said sympathetically, curling up on Norway's arm.

Greenland suddenly stilled. "Wait…my room's next to Denmark's. That means…_Iceland_!" he grabbed Iceland by the collar. "Swap rooms with me PLEASE! I don't want to be hearing—THAT—for the whole night!"

"Hell no," Iceland said blandly.

"Why are _you_ complaining?" Sealand asked. "At least you have your own room! _I _still have to share a suite with Papa-Sweden and Papa-Finland!"

Ireland was seated at the bar and drank down her cup of whiskey. She set the cup down, but was surprised to see a fresh glass be put beside her. She turned her head and saw Italy standing there, smiling obliviously. "Uh…hi?"

"Ve…Grandpa Rome once me," Italy said. "That a lady should never have an empty glass."

Ireland eyed the full glass and quickly grabbed it and drank it down. But she glared at Italy as she set the cup down. "Your Grandpa was a _prick_."

Italy gaped at her for a moment. "Uh…"

"Anything else?" Ireland asked.

"You met Grandpa Rome?" Italy asked. "How _old_ are you?"

Ireland nearly spat up her drink and she wagged a finger at Italy. "If your _Grandpa_ taught you anything, it would be that you _never_ ask a lady that!"

"Eight thousand years old," England said quickly as he walked past.

"_**TUILÍ**_!" Ireland hollered, knocking over her stool and running after her brother.

Italy stared after them thoughtfully. "Ve…"

He was suddenly locked in a headlock from behind. "What are you doing buying drinks for _women_?"

"D-Doitsu!" Italy whined, wiggling in Germany's arms. "I was just being polite, is all!"

Germany glared at the top of his head. "Don't do it again, okay? Now come on…" Germany dragged him away.

Liechtenstein craned her head around the party-hall. She didn't see Switzerland anywhere. She knew her brother wasn't happy about his standing in the final, but she was concerned he might get drunk. If he got drunk and aimed his gun at the wrong person…

"_Excuse me."_

Liechtenstein was startled by the voice and turned around. She was shock to find herself face-to-face with a white horse. She barely had time to register the horn on his head when he suddenly leaned forward and kissed her. A white flash of light filled her vision briefly, and she stumbled backwards.

The unicorn still stood there, staring at her with narrowed eyes. _"It is done."_

"W-W-What is?" Liechtenstein sputtered, covering her mouth with a hand.

"_You are the one who shot me,"_ the unicorn said. _"You wounded my leg."_

"Ah…" guilt consumed Liechtenstein in a heartbeat and she raised her hands. "I-I'm sorry—"

"_I did not realize it was a Fair Maiden who had wounded me," _the unicorn interrupted. _"But you must take responsibility for what you did."_

"O-Of course," Liechtenstein said. "What do I need to do?"

"_We will get married."_

Liechtenstein's eyes widened, and her mouth hung open. "_W-Was_?"

"_I will marry you and bestow my powers onto you." _the unicorn leaned closer. _"You MUST take responsibility for trying to kill me, Fair Maiden."_

"I didn't try to kill you! It was an accident, I swear to you!"

"_Nevertheless, you shot me. You must take responsibility."_

Before Liechtenstein could respond, the barrel of a rifle appeared out of the corner of her eye and pressed into the unicorn's cheek. "Do you want her to _take responsibility_ now?"

The unicorn didn't flinch, but he glared at Switzerland, who held the gun to his face. _"It is already done."_

Another flash of light filled the room, startling everyone surrounding the siblings. Once the light faded, the unicorn was gone.

Switzerland scoffed, and hoisted his gun onto his shoulder. "What was _that_ all about?"

But Liechtenstein slowly looked down at her hands. "I-I'm engaged…to a _unicorn_?" she sighed very slowly. "I feel like a princess…"

"…You _are_ a princess," Switzerland pointed out.

Ireland was still screaming at England and wringing his neck, with his former colonies watching and laughing obnoxiously, when China hurried over. "England! We need to discuss our promise, aru!"

"Promise?" Ireland asked, abruptly letting England go. "What does he mean?"

"None of your business," England said harshly, brushing out his clothes. "All right, let's go China—"

"Nonsense, there's no shame in talking about it here, aru!" China said cheerfully.

England flushed. "I'm _not_ discussing this in front of other people!"

China grinned and poked at him playfully. "But you promised me. You promised me you would do it and now you _must_ do it. It's my reward, after all, for allowing you to use Hong Kong, aru."

"Do what?" America asked.

England grumbled under his breath and scrubbed a hand over his flushed face. "Next Saturday. I'll come to your house this Saturday for it."

"_That's _the spirit," China said. He leaned in closer. "I will…_definitely _look forward to it, aru."

The other countries gaped in confusion as China hurried off to rejoin Hong Kong and Pakistan. America immediately pounced. "What was the promise? What are you doing with China?"

"NOTHING!" England hollered, shoving America away. "Shut it, you git!"

An evil glint entered Ireland's eye and she cackled loudly. "I've got it! You've made a bet like Norway did with Denmark! You're _offering your body_ to China!"

The other countries shrieked with laughter. England screamed and grabbed Ireland by her collar. "You bloody bitch! It isn't ANYTHING like that!"

"Then why are you so embarrassed?" Australia asked snidely, earning more laughter from everyone around him.

"**IT'S NOT LIKE THAT**!" England screamed, but he might as well have been shouting at a brick wall. Screaming with rage he ran out of the party-hall as the other countries taunted him for having to "take one" from China.

"Eh?" Spain looked over the side of the table. He brightened at what he saw. "Ah! _Qué lindo!_"

"What is?" Romano asked irritably. He drank his beer, but then spat it back up. "Ugh! German beer is fucking terrible!"

"I thought you didn't speak Spanish!" Portugal pointed out snidely.

Spain swooped down and picked up the _boggart_ between two fingers and held him up for everyone to see. "This one tried to tie my shoelaces together! Isn't that cute?"

"It certainly _is_ cute!" San Marino cheered, clapping his hands.

Romano checked to see if _his_ shoelaces were tied together before he glared at the _boggart_. "Don't tell you want to keep _that_ as a pet!"

"Eh? Why not?" Spain pet the _boggart_ on its head and set it on the table. "I think it would fit very well in a home environment…"

"What, with the TURTLES?" Romano snapped.

The _boggart_ began to giggle where he sat. Spain positively smiled at it. "You recognize me as your boss, _sí_?"

A hand suddenly slammed down hard upon the _boggart_, pinning him to the table. "I'VE GOT YOU!"

Spain yelped, jumping out his chair and rounding on Greenland, who violently held the _boggart_ down. "What are you doing?"

"He stole 50 Euros from me!" Greenland barked. "He'd better give it back to me or he'll _never_ get up! And I won't let you bite me this time, either!"

"Why would he steal 50 Euros from you?" San Marino asked.

"Because it's a _boggart_, that's why!" Greenland crunched his hand harder down upon the _boggart_. "Now give me back my money!"

"_Boggart_?" Portugal asked slowly. He looked at Spain. "Do you still want it in your house?"

Spain watched Greenland squeezing the _boggart_ in his fist. He laughed and smiled. "Sure, why not?"

Romano suddenly brightened. "Yeah, keep that thing inside your house! Then it'll drive you crazy and destroy everything!"

Spain laughed again. "Well if _that_ happened, I could just stay with you, Romano!"

Romano's face turned red and Portugal burst out laughing. France heard what Spain said and hurried over, joining in the laughter. "Antonio is making his move!"

Finland sighed as he joined the younger Nordic countries, Sweden following him. "Åland has been put to bed. How is everyone?"

"Fine," Sealand said idly. "You just missed Norway, though."

"Norway?" Finland blinked. The other Nordic country indeed wasn't present. "Did he go to bed already?"

"_Someone's_ bed," Iceland said, standing up as he tucked his phone away. "I have to go, but I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Where are you going?" Greenland asked snidely, counting his 50 Euros. "Going off with _Oji-san_?"

Iceland glared at him before he hurried off.

"I-I'm confused," Finland said warily. "What did Iceland mean by 'someone's bed'? Where would Norway go?"

Sweden's face clouded over. "…The wager," he said coldly. "Denmark must want him to fulfill it tonight."

Finland looked at him. "Fulfill what?"

"You don't want to know, it's so _disgusting_!" Greenland said, his face turning green.

"Norway said he would—" Faroe began.

"Enough, ENOUGH!"

Sweden leaned over and whispered the truth into Finland's ear. Finland did a double-take and his whole face flushed. "EH? _Norway_ agreed to that? Why would he do such a thing?"

"He took a blood-oath," Sealand offered, standing up. "Hey, can I get my own room? Denmark got Greenland and Faroe their own rooms."

"A _blood-oath_?" Finland shook his head in disbelief before focusing on Sealand. "You don't need your own hotel room."

"But why? I'm my own country

"Ve, Germany?" Italy asked as Germany set him down at the table where Romano and the others sat at.

"What is it?" Germany asked, helping himself to beer.

"What's a _ménage à trois_?"

Germany spat up his beer. Romano screamed in rage and tackled Germany. "_BASTARDO_! What are you teaching my _fratello_?"

"West!" Prussia was swaying on his feet as he drunkenly ran over to his brother. "You were part of a _three-some_ with Italy? That's awesome! Who was the third person?"

Italy looked confused. "W-Why are you so angry, Nii-san? Please get off Germany!"

"I'll kill you!" Romano shouted, undeterred as her tried to pummel Germany. "I'll kill you for turning my brother into a _pervert_!"

Seborga snorted with disgust. "So says the guy who took a shower WITH SPAIN!"

Romano froze, and his face turned as red as a tomato as he became scrutinized by everyone nearby.

Germany shoved Romano off him and climbed to his feet, looking incredibly weary. "This is worse than last year!"

"Don't feel that way!" Italy said, coming to his side. "It can end much better! Let's go back to your house and watch movies!"

"_Oui_, _watch movies_!" France laughed.

Germany glared at Italy, but then glared at the chaos around him. Everyone was either drunk or dancing or crying or something. "_Ja_…let's get out of here."

* * *

><p><em>Epilogue<em>

China was grinning from ear to ear as he took a seat beside his dragon boss. "Are you ready, aru?"

The dragon grinned toothily at him. _"I've been waiting for a moment like this since the First Opium War."_

"That's good to hear! England!" China called out as he settled more comfortably in his chair. "We're ready for you, aru!"

China heard several curse words in English outside of the room. But he was patient, and tried not to look _too_ smug as the door was finally pushed open.

England awkwardly stumbled into the room, holding a boom box in his right hand. He was red in the face and looked so embarrassed. It probably had to do with the fact that he was dressed in a full Hello Kitty costume.

The dragon roared with laughter, while China burst from the chair and ran over to hug England tightly. "_KĔÀI_!" he shrieked, cuddling England to him.

"All right, SHUT IT!" England hollered, shoving China away. "I'm here, aren't I? Let me get this thing bloody over with!"

"All right, all right, aru," China said, giggling as he retook his seat. Beside him, his boss was still laughing obnoxiously. "Take your time, England. Let us know when you're ready."

"You didn't say we'd have an AUDIENCE!" England yelled, jabbing a kitty claw at the dragon. "As if this weren't uncomfortable enough!"

"_Cry me a river,"_ the dragon hissed at him. _"Why don't we have a bit of a history lesson about __**discomfort**__?"_

England said nothing more about it and begrudgingly set about setting up the boom box.

"Remember," China said. "You promised to do the _entire soundtrack_, aru."

"I know!" England snapped. He sighed very sadly, and dragged the Hello Kitty head over his face. Because of the claws, it took several minutes of maneuvering to get the CD playing.

"_We don't have all day!"_ the dragon mocked him. _"Hurry up and get on with it!"_

"Bugger…bugger!" England growled, finally getting the CD going. He straightened, and painfully turned to face China and his boss. He couldn't stand looking at their smug expressions.

The disgustingly cheerful music filled the room. England swallowed thickly and began waving his Hello Kitty arms as he sang along with the CD.

"_Hello, Kitty! Play with us today! We'll laugh and sing! On this lovely sunny day!"_

The dragon screamed with laughter. China was smiling, but didn't laugh. That didn't make England feel better. _"All your friends are waiting for you! Ready to run and play!"_

"_HEY!"_ the dragon yelled suddenly. _"You aren't dancing! Hurry up and DANCE!"_

"He's right!" China added. "You need to _dance_, aru!"

England bit back several violent swear words as he forced himself to dance more enthusiastically. He was starting to sweat profusely inside the costume. _"Oh! Hello! Hello Kitty! Hello's your friend!"_

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, there was a fourth person present behind a red curtain on the far side of the room.

Hong Kong reached over to adjust the zoom on the camera propped up on the tripod to focus more on England's awkward dance and even more awkward singing. He then sat back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest. "This is going straight on YouTube…"

* * *

><p><em>And finally…<em>

"ICELAND!" Greenland screamed into his phone. "What the hell, man? My sky is full of volcanic ash! I can barely see outside my window!"

There was a moment of silence on the other line before Iceland spoke. _"__**Fyrirgefðu**__. I was aiming for Norway."_

* * *

><p>Thank you all so much for reading and I'm sorry for the delay. I had so much fun writing this fanfic, and I would certainly like to do a 2012 Eurovision fanfic, which will take place in Baku, Azerbaijan next year. We'll just have to see how things will go, I guess.<p>

I'm currently working on a fanfic attached to this story that has to do with Norway and Denmark's little wager. The content though for the fanfic isn't appropriate for , so I'm going to have to post it elsewhere. Once it's completed, I'll provide a link on my user profile page so all of you can access it.

And for some final thoughts:

- _Nalewka_ is a popular Polish liquor. Though it's not as strong as vodka, it has an incredibly sweet flavor because its ingredients include fruit, herbs, sugar, and molasses. Because of this, it's a very popular alcoholic beverage with women, lol!

- The arguing between Finland and Sweden's people reflects modern culture, in which some Finns and Swedes don't get along. The 'all Swedish men are gay' is a popular stereotype in Finland. So even though they are married in Hetalia, there seems to be sour feelings amongst both of their populous, lol!

- England is singing the English theme song of _Hello Kitty_ to China. _Hello Kitty_ is an popular anime series in Japan, and has been ongoing since 1974. It is one of the most recognized icons in the world, and it's cute, lol.

- Greenland yelling at Iceland at the end has to do with Iceland's volcano, Grímsvötn, erupting on May 25, 2011. The ash from this eruption wasn't as bad as Eyjafjallajökull's the previous year, but Grímsvötn's spread to Greenland.

Thanks again for reading!


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